


Tie Your Heart

by ArcadianMaggie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcadianMaggie/pseuds/ArcadianMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry grows wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These characters are fictional representations and are in no way a reflection on actual persons. 
> 
> This was going to be the center square for my kink!bingo, but it's turning out longer than I originally thought, and there's no way I will finish in the next week, so I decided to start posting it as a WIP. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful friend, [OnTheTurningAway](http://otta-ff.livejournal.com/), who continues to indulge me by being my beta for a fandom she has zero interest in or knowledge of. Thank you to [fr333bird](http://fr333bird.livejournal.com/) for the Brit pick and to [tkegl](http://tkegl.livejournal.com/) for the gorgeous banner! Also on [LJ](http://arcadianmaggie.livejournal.com/16090.html).
> 
> Warnings: homophobia, religious fanaticism, violence.
> 
> Title taken from Pablo Neruda's _Sonnet LXXIX_ ([link to orig.](http://www.poesi.as/pn59079.htm))
> 
>   _Tie your heart at night to mine, love,_  
>  and both will defeat the darkness  
> like twin drums beating in the forest  
> against the heavy wall of wet leaves.
> 
> _Night crossing: black coal of dream_  
>  that cuts the thread of earthly orbs  
> with the punctuality of a headlong train  
> that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. __
> 
> _Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement,_  
>  to the grip on life that beats in your breast,  
> with the wings of a submerged swan, __
> 
> _So that our dream might reply_  
>  to the sky's questioning stars  
> with one key, one door closed to shadow.  
> 

**Chapter 1**

Harry’s moan roused Louis from a sound sleep. It wasn’t the good kind of moaning, the kind that meant Harry was dreaming and Louis could slowly wake him up and then they wouldn’t get out of bed for hours. No, it wasn’t that kind of moan at all; Harry sounded like he was in pain.

“Hazza?” Louis rubbed his eyes and rolled toward Harry who was lying on his stomach, elbows bent with his head resting on his hands. “Are you all right?” 

“My back,” Harry said with another groan. “It’s killing me.”

Louis reached over and sunk his hand in Harry’s hair, fingers twining through his soft curls. He lightly scratched his scalp. “Just give me a second to wake up, love. I’ll go get you something.”

“Already took,” Harry said, turning his head so that he was facing Louis. It was still early, the darkness just beginning to lift. In the early morning light, Louis could see the strain etched on Harry’s features. “Didn’t help.” Harry moaned again, “God, it’s like a hundred times worse than usual. I thought it’d get better once we were done touring and off the bus, but it’s getting worse.”

“Maybe you pulled something. I think we should have a doctor take a look at you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry answered. 

Louis was immediately concerned. Harry had always rejected the suggestion of seeing a doctor about his back. He insisted he’d always had trouble with it and he just needed to get more rest, strengthen his core and get a better mattress. The mattress had already been replaced. Their current mattress was the one Louis’ mum had gotten them for a Christmas present. She’d had them both test it first, making sure it was firm enough for Harry. Louis knew fans thought it was a strange that his answer for the favorite gift question was a new mattress from his mum, but it was an honest one. Knowing it was as much for Harry as it was for him meant a lot to Louis. They were lucky to have such supportive families. All five of them, really, but especially him and Harry.

Harry’s core strengthening was also in full effect. Louis was still enraptured by Harry’s new body. How he had gotten so fit so quickly was amazing. It seemed as if overnight he’d shot up in height and become all muscled and manly. Harry’d worked for it, of course. They had both promised they’d get to the gym regularly, but Louis was erratic, easily persuaded to skip; Harry was disciplined, and it had paid off. Louis was still learning Harry’s new body—his muscled abs, the hard planes of his chest, his impressive biceps. He loved running his hands all over, feeling out each new change. Even better, he liked exploring Harry’s lovely new body with his tongue, biting on his hip, mouthing at his stomach and making Harry giggle.

Getting more rest was always a challenge. Even with the much needed stretch of time off, they were still going to the studio, making charity appearances. It was a shame that on one of the few days they had no obligations, Harry was losing sleep from being in pain.

“Do you want me to give you a massage? See if I can loosen you up?”

“Would you? That’d be nice, yeah.”

Louis scooted closer and kissed Harry, licking into his mouth, gripping his hair in his fist and tilting Harry’s back, just a bit. He smiled at the soft sound that left Harry’s mouth. Much better than his previous groans. “’Course,” Louis said, pulling away, smiling softly at Harry.

He straddled Harry’s hips and leaned forward, starting at his neck, digging his thumbs along side his spine and then running them up to the base of his skull. Harry moaned again, but this time it was appreciative. Louis repeated his actions several more times before moving to Harry’s shoulders. He massaged them, moving his arms down a bit and working on his biceps for a moment. He marveled again at how much bigger Harry was all over. He brought his hands back to the shoulders and started working his way down the spine. When he got to the shoulder blades, Harry let out a little whimper.

“Is that too hard?” Louis asked, stopping his motions immediately.

“No. I’m just really sore there. Like, _really_ sore. Keep going, though. I’m sure it’s helping.”

Louis started up the massage again, but eased up on the pressure at his shoulder blades. Harry stayed tense, and his breathing changed; instead of the deep relaxed breathing he begun to sink into, his breaths were now shallow, almost panting. Louis halted the motions of his hands again.

“Harry?”

“I’m all right,” Harry choked out.

Louis gave a frustrated little laugh. “No, Haz, obviously, you are not all right. I think I should stop. I don’t want to make it worse by accident.”

“No, don’t stop. It feels good.”

Louis gave a bark of laughter. “Harold,” he chided.

Harry chuckled in return. “Well, not right there, obviously. Maybe just… skip that part? Do my lower back? That always feels really good.”

“Yeah, okay,” Louis said, scooting backward so that his weight was resting on the back of Harry’s thighs. He worked on Harry’s lower back for a while, spending extra time on the dimples right above the swell of his arse, placing his thumbs in them, loosely gripping Harry around the waist.

Harry looked so good splayed out like this, once again loose and pliant. Louis’ dick, half hard since he woke up, began to stiffen as Louis moved even lower, pressing his fingers into Harry’s arse cheeks. He tilted forward, then moved his hands higher again, grabbing Harry on either side of his hips. He rocked slowly so that his dick was sliding between the cleft of Harry’s arse.

Harry laughed and gave a small groan. “Lou, I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t have to do a thing. You can just lie there,” Louis said, continuing to rock his hips gently, rubbing up against Harry’s arse.

“You’re impossible.”

“I can’t help it,” Louis said. “You know what happens when I give you a massage. How am I supposed to resist getting turned on when I’ve been rubbing my hands all over your gorgeous body for the past half hour? It’s not my fault.”

Harry laughed again. “I really can’t. There’s no way.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Louis insisted, taking hold of his prick with one hand and pressing it down against Harry’s backside.

“I’m serious,” Harry said, bucking up to dislodge Louis and twisting over onto his back. When his shoulders made contact with the mattress, he arched upwards, crying out in pain.

“Jesus,” Louis said, instantly forgetting about his dick, concern for Harry overriding all else. He scrambled closer, so he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Harry. “Haz? Are you okay?” He reached out to touch Harry whose chest was still arched off the bed, then drew his hand back tentatively, not wanting to hurt him further.

Harry slowly lowered himself back down, wincing as weight settled onto the mattress. He was gritting his teeth and his eyes were squeezed shut. He let out a deep breath when he was finally lying flat.

“I’m calling a doctor right now,” Louis said.

“Not yet,” Harry said, eyes flying open as he reached out to grab Louis’ wrist. “Just sit with me for a few minutes.” He shut his eyes again, a deep crease forming on his forehead. His fingers dug into Louis’ skin.

“Okay,” Louis said, not wanting to leave Harry’s side at the moment anyway. “I’m right here.” He reached out with his free hand to pry open Harry’s hand from his wrist. He twined their fingers together and gave a squeeze, letting Harry grip his hand as tightly as he needed. His other hand flailed uselessly for a moment, as he was still unsure if he should touch Harry or not, then it found its way to Harry’s hair; he sunk it into his curls, rubbing his head soothingly.

After a few moments, Harry’s tight hold on his hand eased and he let out another deep breath, this one sounding like relief. He opened his eyes and sought out Louis’.

“Thanks. I’m better now.”

“Jesus, Harry, what the hell was that?” Louis asked, pulling both his hands away from Harry and rubbing his face. Now that Harry seemed to be doing better, the worry and fear were sinking in.

“I told you that it really hurt.”

“Yeah, I know what you told me,” Louis snapped. “But there’s hurting and there’s… whatever the hell that was,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in Harry’s direction.

Harry reached for Louis again, grabbing at his elbow.

“Don’t be mad,” he said.

“I’m not mad,” he huffed. “I mean,” he said after a long pause, his voice much more calm, “I’m not mad at you. It’s just… you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Louis laughed, frustrated. “Don’t be sorry.” He tried to pull his arm away, but Harry held firm. He lowered his hand to his thigh. “You can let go. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Maybe I don’t want to let you go,” Harry said with a smirk.

Louis rolled his eyes. “Well, good, because I’m not so easy to get rid of, you know.”

Harry’s expression changed, eyes growing sad. Louis knew what was coming. He hated this so much, more than Harry, he thought.

“I wish you didn’t have to go tomorrow.”

Louis shifted, turning so he could bring his feet up onto the bed. He lay down on his side next to Harry, propped up on his elbow so he could look him in the eye.

“I wish I didn’t have to go either.”

He reached out as if to touch Harry, and pulled his hand back again. He gave another little huffy laugh. “I’m afraid to touch you now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You should never be afraid to touch me. I’m okay now, really.”

Louis reached over and brushed Harry’s fringe off his face, tucking a curl behind his ear; he stroked his cheek tenderly with his fingers. “I’ll cancel it. You need me. They’ll just have to deal with it.”

“No, don’t do that. Better to get it out of the way, yeah?”

Louis looked uncertain.

“It was just a bad muscle spasm. You’re probably right that I pulled something. I’ll end up spending the next two days in bed anyway, try and give it a rest.”

“Two days in bed sounds perfect to me,” Louis said with a saucy smile and a raise of his eyebrows.

“Speaking of… how’s your dick?”

“You sweet talker, you.”

“A regular ladies’ man.”

“Yes, yes. Hilarious. You really know how to kill an erection, that’s all I have to say.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll suck you off later.”

“And how are you going to do that? You can barely move.”

“You’ll just have to straddle my head and fuck my face.”

“Christ, Harry. I take it back about you killing an erection.”

-o-

As Louis and Eleanor wandered the shops, he wondered if there was any way he could cut this visit short. They were supposed to spend the entire weekend together, be seen out and about a few times, get their pictures taken. With the tour in America coming up, the powers that be still wanted to maintain a certain image. The boys had all agreed, but Louis sometimes felt resentful that he was the one who had to do all the heavy lifting—especially when he wanted nothing more than to be at home, curled up with his beautiful Harry. But now that university had started back up, Eleanor’s schedule was less flexible; this was one of the few opportunities she had available to spend time with him.

He’d got to Manchester late the previous evening, putting off leaving as long as possible. Harry seemed to be doing better and he had let Louis make a doctor’s appointment for him the following week, but something about the way Harry had cried out when his back touched the bed had stirred alarm in Louis; he hadn’t been able to shake his uneasiness since. Louis pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent another text.

_You doing ok? Miss you. Xx_

Louis kept checking his phone, wondering where Harry was, why it was taking him so long to reply. He was about to call him when he heard his phone indicate he had a new text.

_I’m fine.. stop worrying. Miss you too x_

_Can’t stop. Want to come home._

_It’s just 1more day. I’m fine.. promise. Call me later?_

_Yeah, ok. Love you. Xx_

_Love you too x_

Louis smiled and put his phone away. He looked up to see Eleanor staring at him, arms crossed, waiting. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling. Louis gave a little shoulder shrug in reply and said, “Sorry. That was Harry.”

She gave him a look as if he were unbelievably stupid. Of course she knew who he was texting while grinning like a fool. She was a remarkably good sport about all this. Louis suspected Eleanor would much rather be out having fun with her friends, but she never hesitated to step in to play the role of his girlfriend whenever she was asked. “What’s the verdict? Is he going to live?” she asked.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You didn’t see him. It was really bad.”

She gave him a look. “C’mon. Let’s go someplace crowded and grab something to eat, then we can stay in for the rest of the evening and you can skype or text or whatever for the rest of the night.”

He reached for her hand and smiled. “Thanks, El.”

A buzzing under his chest woke Louis up. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of where he was, what he was hearing. It was still pitch black. Reaching for the buzzing object, he realized it was his phone which must have somehow got set to vibrate. Louis remembered then that he and Harry had stayed up for hours talking while he lay on the futon mattress on the floor of Eleanor’s room. He must have fallen asleep talking. Louis blinked at the time displayed: 3AM. His heart started racing with anxiety.

“’Lo?” he answered, sitting upright, leaning back against the wall. “Harry?”

He heard a muffled sound on the other end of the line.

“Harry?” He tried not to panic. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

There was another sound, like a choked sob and Louis realized Harry was crying.

”Hazza? Say something. Please, you’re scaring me.”

After another agonizing moment of heartrending noises, choked sobs coming over the line, Harry finally spoke. “Lou?”

“I’m here. I’m right here. Tell me what’s wrong, love. Please, are you okay?”

“You have to come home, Lou. I need you.”

“Fuck. Tell me what’s wrong. Harry? Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I need you, Lou,” Harry only repeated, sobs punctuating his words. “You have to come home. You have to. Boo, I need you to come home.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” Louis said, scrambling out of the bedding and standing, stumbling about, searching for the light. “I’m leaving right now, just as soon as I tell Eleanor and grab my things. I’ll leave right away.” The light next to Eleanor’s bed clicked on, illuminating the room. She was sitting up in her bed, long hair a tangled mess around her face, his frantic conversation having woken her. She blinked sleepily, but got up and started helping him put his belongings in his bag. “Harry?” Louis spoke again. “You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. I need to know who to call.”

“No!” Harry practically yelled. “Don’t call anyone. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Lou. Just you.” His words ended with more tears.

“Okay, okay,” Louis said, his voice soothing. “I’m on my way.” Eleanor had his bag packed and was holding the strap for him, helping him put it over his shoulder. “Keys?” he mouthed to her and she nodded, hurrying to her desk, looking for his car keys while Louis stayed on the phone with Harry, trying to calm him down enough to find out what was wrong. He mouthed a “thank you” to Eleanor when she handed him his keys, and then an “I’ll call you.” She nodded and walked him to the door, letting him out with a soft, “Good luck.” Louis nodded in response, but she was already forgotten as his mind shifted to focus completely on Harry.

“All right, I’m heading to the car park now,” Louis told Harry.

“Hurry, please,” Harry said. “But, you know, not too much of a hurry. Don’t get into an accident or anything.”

Louis laughed, relieved that Harry seemed to be settling down a bit from his emotional outburst. “I’ll get there as fast as I can, whilst still maintaining safe driving speed.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Harry?” Louis asked, voice softer. “Can you please tell me what’s going on? Are you hurt? Ill? Are you sure I can’t call someone to keep you company until I get there?”

“I’m sure. I… I’ll be okay until you get here.” He was still sniffling, but he sounded calmer, as if knowing Louis was on the way was helping. “Something happened,” he said.

“What? What happened?”

“Just hurry.”

“Harry, you’re freaking me out.”

“I... I just need you to come home, all right?” His voice was rising in pitch again, as if inching back toward his previous state.

“Yeah, ok,” Louis said quickly, trying to keep Harry calm. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.” He continued to murmur reassurances and endearments while waiting for Harry to get control of himself again.

“Can you just… stay on the phone with me until you get here?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m at the car now. Getting in.” He narrated his movements for Harry as he got into the vehicle and started the engine, then pulled out of the car park. “Okay, I’m on the road. I’ll be home soon.”

“Keep talking to me? Yeah? I don’t care about what.” Harry’s sounded stressed, exhausted.

“Sure, love,” Louis quickly agreed, continuing to talk about any random thing that popped into his mind, trying to keep his own panic tamped down. He needed to be strong for Harry. Even more, he needed to get home and find out what was wrong. The road to London suddenly seemed interminable.

-o-

When Louis had offered to stay home and cancel the trip to Manchester, Harry had never been more tempted to let him. He hated they had to hide their relationship, but they had all agreed it was the most practical decision, especially so early in their careers and with another American tour coming up. Most days he could handle it, accepted the logic that had led to the decision, but other days, the unfairness of it all made his mood black and rage fester like sickness in his gut. He mostly kept it all in, not wanting to make things more difficult for everyone, but some days he felt like he’d explode. Harry knew these planned visits were just as hard on Louis as they were on him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling jealous. He knew Eleanor was no threat to him, but every minute she spent with Louis was a minute that didn’t belong to Harry. Every touch, every conversation, every event they attended were ones that should, by all rights, belong to him. But that Louis had been willing to stay, to cancel the trip simply because he was worried, that alone had been enough for Harry to let him go.

He regretted it almost immediately. Once Louis was gone, the fear Harry had been trying to ignore started creeping in. He hadn’t wanted Louis to be any more worried than he already was, but the pain was intense, far worse than anything he’d felt before. He was starting to worry something was seriously wrong—serious enough to affect the band. Shifting in the bed, Harry tried to find a position that was somewhat comfortable; he had to settle for one that was barely tolerable. 

The next day was miserable. Harry had only moved from the bed to use the toilet and to eat. Every movement was excruciating. He didn’t tell Louis how badly he was doing. Harry guessed Louis probably suspected things were worse than he was letting on; he was grateful that Louis and Eleanor had decided to stay to let Louis spend the night on the phone with Harry. It almost made things bearable.

When he woke, Harry knew immediately something was terribly wrong. He’d fallen asleep on his stomach, trying to keep pressure off his back. The pain, now concentrated in his shoulder blades, had multiplied a hundred fold. He felt as if he were being split open, as if his flesh was being torn from his body. He screamed, his back burning white hot, like knives were tearing through his skin. Writhing in agony, Harry tried to reach behind him, clawing at his shoulders, trying to stop whatever horror was going on behind him. He felt drops of liquid sliding down his skin, an incongruous tickle in tandem with the monstrous pain. His stomach heaved when he realized it was blood. His blood. What was happening? Terrified, Harry whimpered, sobs catching in his throat as he felt something moving, emerging from his body, part of him, yet entirely foreign—lifting, spreading, every movement agony. Then the things were coming to rest across his back, settling over his buttocks, whisper touches on the back of his thighs, feather soft. He lay there panting, trying to comprehend the impossible. 

Harry had grown wings.

-o-

Louis threw his bag down by the door the second he arrived home, calling out, “Harry?”

He raced through the flat and stopped short when he flipped on the switch to their bedroom. Fear twisted through him like a knife to the gut. His heart pounded and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe as he stared at the bed; the sheets were soaked with blood. 

“Harry,” he yelled, panicked. “Harry!” Louis remembered the phone in his hand and brought it up to his face, relieved to see they were still connected. “Where are you? What happened?” he demanded.

“I’m in the bathroom.”

Louis rushed over the door and turned the handle; it wouldn’t open. He called through the door. “I’m here. Unlock the door.”

There was no answer.

“Harry!” He spoke into the phone again. “Unlock the door.”

“I… I need a minute.”

Louis’ panic ratcheted up a notch. He wiped the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand. He feared the worst.

“Did… somebody hurt you? Hazza?”

“No. No, it was nothing like that.”

“What happened? There’s… there’s blood everywhere.” He swallowed, afraid to voice his other thoughts. “Did… did you hurt yourself?” He closed his eyes, hands trembling, leaning his forehead against the door while he waited for Harry’s answer.

“What? No. God, no.”

Louis was flooded with relief. The thought that Harry had harmed himself was too horrible to contemplate. “Then was there some sort of accident? There’s so much blood. I should call someone.”

“No!” Harry’s response was immediate. “No,” he repeated in a calmer voice. “Don’t call anyone. I don’t want them to see me.”

“If you’re trying to reassure me, you’re doing a shit job of it. Open the fucking door.”

“Just wait.”

“Harry—”

“Just give me a fucking minute.”

“I need to see that you’re all right. Unlock this goddamn door.”

“I’m not all right. Okay? I’m not fucking all right. I’m never going to be all right again.” His voice broke on a sob.

“Hazza?” Louis felt his throat tighten and his eyes starting to prickle at Harry’s outburst. “I’m really scared. Please open the door. Please.”

“I’m scared too. I’m really scared, Lou.”

“Please open the door.”

The handle rattled and Louis pulled back from the door. It opened a crack and Harry’s face was looking back at him, Harry’s beautiful face with his big green eyes, brimming with tears.

Louis searched any visible part of Harry he could see for any signs of injury. When he found nothing, he pushed at the door, trying to open it further. Harry stopped it.

Louis shot him an incredulous look full of frustration and tension. “Haz,” he said, warning in his tone.

Harry took a deep breath, as if bracing himself, then stepped back away from the door, allowing Louis room to open it.

The door swung wide and Louis gaped in shock as Harry was fully revealed. “Shit, Harry. You’ve got wings.”

-o-

Louis sat on the bed with a bag of cotton wool and antiseptic. He had no idea where they’d come from, but was glad they had been in the medicine cabinet. After the initial shock of seeing Harry _with wings_ and hearing Harry’s borderline-hysterical explanation of how they had _just grown there_ , Louis’ mind had not stopped spinning. He had so many questions. First, however, he needed to take care of Harry, who was clearly on the verge of another meltdown.

He wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle and buried his face in his neck, holding him close. “I’m just so relieved you’re okay,” he whispered against his skin. “I was really scared.”

“I’m not okay,” Harry said, that hysterical edge returning once again. “Or did you not notice the fucking wings growing out of my back? Nothing about this is _okay_.”

Louis held tighter, aware of the soft brush of feathers against the backs of his arms. “Yeah, I know. I know, Haz. But, I mean, all the blood…” his voice hitched. Louis took a moment to get himself back under control, squeezing even tighter. It wouldn’t do to have them both of them about to lose it. “I thought you were really hurt. Like, _really_ hurt. This is…” he was momentarily at a loss. “Well, whatever this is, we can deal with it. We’ll figure it out. All right?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to deal with wings, Lou?”

“I… I don’t know, but we will.” Coming to a quick decision, Louis said, “First things first. If you won’t let me call someone, at least let’s get you cleaned up so I can take a look at your back. That was… a lot of blood.” A tremor crept into his voice. “All right?”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said, burying his face in Louis’ hair. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

Louis helped Harry into the shower, stripping down as well, so he could get into the enclosure with him. There had been some awkward maneuvering as Harry tried to fit his wings through the door, hissing in pain as he bumped one against the side.

“Shit, are you all right?” Louis asked.

“Fuck. That fucking hurt.”

Louis reached for Harry, then drew his hands back, nervous. “Should I… should I try to help… I don’t know… fold them up somehow?”

Harry grimaced as he brought the wings closer to his body. “I’ve got it,” he said. “I’m just not used to them. And they fucking hurt like hell every time I move.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some pain killers left over from the dentist that one time. I think they’re in the kitchen. I can go get them.”

“No.” Harry’s eyes took on that panicked edge again and he grabbed Louis’ arm.

“Yeah, okay,” Louis reassured. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere. Maybe later.”

When Harry nodded, Louis added, “Let’s get you in here.”

There was plenty of room as soon as they were both inside their large shower enclosure. Louis leaned over to turn on the water and once the temperature was adjusted, he reached for the shower lever then hesitated. “Can they get wet, do you think?”

“I dunno.”

“They’re feathers, right? And birds get their wings wet all the time, don’t they? I mean, they live outside. And it rains and stuff.” Louis’ brow furrowed. “And ducks swim, right?”

He looked up at Harry, hand still on the latch. When he saw the expression on Harry’s face, Louis’ lips quirked into a smile; seconds later they were both laughing.

“This is so fucked up,” Harry said, smiling, their laughter having relieved some of the previous tension.

Louis just shrugged in response and turned the shower on. “It is what it is,” he said.

When Louis finally got a look at Harry’s back, his previous good humour vanished. For a moment he thought he might be sick. Where the wings emerged near his shoulder blades, the skin was torn and ragged, blood still seeping from the wounds. It looked as if they had literally torn right through his skin. 

“How does it look?” Harry asked.

“Not too bad,” Louis lied, taking a deep breath to psych himself up for what he needed to do. He took a flannel, held it under the spray, then started wiping the blood away from Harry’s left shoulder. At the first touch, however, Harry twisted away, crying out. Louis’ stomach dropped; he hated to be the cause of Harry’s pain. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he babbled. “God, Hazza, I’m so sorry.”

Louis closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions under control. He had no idea what he was doing. “I really think we should c—”

“No,” Harry cut him off. “I can’t.” His voice was strained, eyes brimming with tears. Louis could tell he was barely holding it together. “Just you tonight, Lou. Please.” 

Resigned, Louis knew he’d do exactly as Harry asked. “I think the flannel’s a bad idea,” he said. “I’m going to use the shower head to spray water directly on you, all right?” When Harry nodded, Louis detached the head and tested the pressure. He adjusted it to make the spray as gentle as possible. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” he said.

Harry flinched the moment the water touched his skin, but he stood silently as Louis worked on washing all the blood away. When the water finally ran clean, Louis let out another deep breath, feeling shaky. Then he helped Harry from the shower and made him stand still as he dried him off, trying to cause as little discomfort as possible, lightly running a towel over his entire body and last, over the wings folded down his back. When Harry’s entire body shuddered when the towel touched the feathers, Louis hurried to complete his task.

Looking at the soiled sheets and gauging Harry’s tenuous grasp on his emotions, Louis made another quick decision. “We’ll use the guest bedroom.” 

Harry nodded in agreement and waited anxiously while Louis gathered medicinal supplies from the cabinet. Once they had moved down the hall, Louis had Harry sit on the edge of the bed, then he used the antiseptic on the jagged skin, doing his best to disinfect while being as gentle as possible. He covered the worst of the wounds with gauze and taped it into place, hoping he wasn’t damaging any feathers with the tape. When he was satisfied he’d done the best he could with his limited skill, Louis brought up the painkillers again. This time Harry agreed to let Louis fetch the medication from the kitchen. Returning quickly, Louis monitored Harry as he took the pills with a glass of water.

“You should rest,” Louis said. “Get some sleep.”

“You too,” Harry countered, studying Louis’ face.

A wave of exhaustion hit Louis at the suggestion and he nodded. “Yeah. We both should. We’ll figure out what to do next in the morning.” He leaned over to kiss Harry, mouth lingering softly against Harry’s lips. His hand reached up and he sunk his fingers into Harry’s curls, still damp from the shower. Giving Harry one more gentle kiss before pulling away, Louis said, “We’ll figure this out together.”

Harry nodded, hand reaching up to hold Louis wrist. He leaned in and rested his forehead against Louis’. “Thanks, Boo.”

“Get some sleep, Haz,” he said closing his eyes.

“Yeah. Hey, Lou?”

“Yeah?” he answered sleepily.

“Did you really compare me to a duck?”

Louis giggled and cracked his eyes open. “Sorry about that. Not a duck. More like a swan. A beautiful swan.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep, you fool.” Louis was gratified to see a small smile on Harry’s face.

He watched as Harry attempted to find a position comfortable enough to sleep in. He ended up on his side, wings folding behind him. Almost immediately, Harry’s eyes drifted closed; it was only moments before his breathing shifted into the rhythm of sleep. 

Eyes roving over Harry, no longer distracted by the wounds he was attending, Louis took the chance to look his fill at the strange wings growing out of Harry’s back. The feathers were dark, almost black. The wings were large, curving up from his shoulders then draping down his back, reaching all the way to his thighs. Louis wondered what their span would be when fully extended. He imagined they would be impressively large. Eyelids growing heavy, Louis struggled to stay awake. He pushed aside all the questions he had—the whys, the hows, the impossibilities—to focus on one overriding thought: beautiful. 

Harry’s wings were beautiful.

-o-

“Lou.” Someone was shaking his shoulder. “Lou, please wake up.”

Dragging himself from slumber, brain still sleep-fuzzed, Louis cracked his eyes open. When he was met with the sight of Harry, large green eyes brimming with tears, he instantly became more alert. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, blinking and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I hoped it was a dream,” Harry said before a tear slid slowly down his cheek. There was a movement behind his back, the rustling of feathers as his wings shifted.

Immediately, the events of the night before came rushing back to Louis. He shifted up onto one elbow, reaching over to wipe the tear from Harry’s face. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t see how. I’ve got fucking wings, Lou. _Wings_.”

“Yeah, I know,” Louis said with a smile.

“It’s not funny,” Harry said and his face crumpled with hurt, more tears escaping from his eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Louis said, reaching for Harry again, pulling him closer to tuck Harry’s head against his chest. “I’m not making fun of you. Shhh.” He ran his fingers through Harry’s curls, scratching his head in the way he knew Harry liked. “I just mean, well, they’re beautiful, Harry. Like everything else about you. Your wings are beautiful.” He followed his words with a kiss to the top of Harry’s head.

“I’m a freak.”

“You’re special.”

“First four nipples, now this.”

“One of a kind.”

“A kind of monster.”

“Hey now, no. No, no, no. An angel.”

Harry pulled away and looked up at Louis, face a mask of derision. “An angel? First a duck, then a swan, and now an angel? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Heavenly,” Louis said, face set in a serious expression.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Now I know you’re taking the piss.”

Not being able to stop himself, Louis’ face cracked into a grin. When Harry smiled in return, he felt victorious.

“They really are beautiful, Haz.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis reassured, even though he could tell Harry didn’t believe him. “Look. We’ll… I don’t know… do some research. See if we can find any similar cases. If they just… grew, maybe there’s some way to… ungrow them.”

“Research where? Grimm’s Fairy Tales? Harry Potter?”

Now Louis rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just throwing ideas out there. Anyway, maybe there’s something out there. And if there’s not, and we can’t find a way for them to go away, well… don’t be angry, but there are worse things, right?”

“What about the band? Tour?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure out.” 

Harry didn’t look convinced.

“We will. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

-o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Three days had passed since the emergence of Harry’s wings. Louis had spent countless hours on the Internet, researching anything he could find about the phenomenon. Which wasn’t much, he was unsurprised to note. Mostly fairy tales and folk lore and far too much unhelpful information on angels. People were really into them, apparently. He could find no actual medical documentation of anything even approaching what had happened to Harry.

Harry spent much of the time sleeping, taking more pain pills as he healed, recovering from the trauma to his body. When he was awake, he’d begun to flex his wings, extending them to their full span, closing them tightly against his body, learning how they worked, like a toddler testing out his legs. Louis would always stop to watch, still mesmerized by the wings, by the otherworldly picture Harry would make, strange and alien, but oh so beautiful, and still so completely Harry. There had been several attempts to modify some clothing, cutting out a section in the back for Harry’s wings, but eventually Harry tossed them aside in frustration, deciding to simply go without. Louis didn’t complain.

Harry had continued to be steadfast in his refusal to let anyone know. He wouldn’t agree to let a doctor examine him, insisting that only Louis tend to his wounds. Louis was nervous, still afraid he’d mess something up or hurt Harry further, but the jagged sores were healing far faster than he suspected was normal, the skin knitting back together without a single scar. Louis pushed aside the discomfort nagging at the edges of his brain which told him supernatural forces were involved. _That_ was simply too much to contemplate right now. No, he needed to deal with practicalities, the familiar. They needed to deal with reality.

Which included the increasingly irate and threatening calls from management. When Louis had called to tell them he and Harry had food poisoning, graphically describing in detail their predicament which prevented them from attending a planned publicity event, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with his delaying tactics for long. He’d stretched the food poisoning into a stomach virus, but the reactions had gone from concern and get well wishes to screaming matches about broken contracts and neglecting responsibility. 

Louis tossed his phone on the table and rubbed his hands across his face, taking a deep breath to try and calm down. He needed to think this through. 

He flinched as a hand rested on the back of his neck, squeezing gently. He hadn’t even heard Harry approach. “We’re going to have to tell them, aren’t we?”

Louis looked up and saw resignation on Harry’s face. He nodded. “I don’t think I can put them off any longer. I keep expecting they’re going to be banging on the door any minute. They’ve got a doctor lined up ready to send on over to confirm we’re unable to work. I’ve done what I can, but I don’t think there’s any way to keep it a secret any longer, not unless we both want to get sued.”

“All right,” Harry said, shoulders sagging. “All right,” he said again, voice a little stronger, as if convincing himself. “But we’re telling the others first. We’re going to make decisions together. All five of us. And then I’ll have to tell my mum.”

Louis nodded, relief flooding him. He hadn’t realized what a weight it had been bearing the secret alone.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll give them a call.” He reached for his phone.

Harry grabbed his arm to stop him.

Louis looked up, noting the expression on Harry’s face; his heart clenched. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, squeezing tightly as he placed a kiss on Harry’s jaw. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Do you… do you think Niall will be afraid of me?” His voice was small.

“Haz, no. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous,” Harry murmured into Louis’ hair.

“Yes it is. It’s the lads. It’s us. And I know they’ll all be here for you no matter what. I’m sure of it. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Give them a call. Let’s get this over with.”

Louis reached up, pulling Harry’s head down toward him for a kiss. “It’s going to be fine,” he repeated.

-o-

Niall was the first to arrive.

“Get you a beer, mate?” Louis asked as he let him into the flat.

“Sure. Sounds good. Where’s Harry?”

“In the bedroom,” Louis said as he went into the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the refrigerator. He used an opener on both and handed one to Niall.

“Thanks. Still sleeping then? Is he that sick?”

Louis hesitated. “Not exactly. He’ll be out once the others get here.”

Niall gave him a quizzical look but didn’t press further, taking another sip of his beer.

Zayn arrived a few minutes later, saying, “Liam’s on his way. Just got off the phone with him. He’ll be here in a few.”

Louis nodded and handed Zayn a beer. 

“Thanks. So what this all about?”

“Something’s happened that we need to discuss with the group.”

“What? Between the two of you? You engaged?”

Louis’ stomach gave a little flip at the suggestion. It’s not like he had never thought about it, but they were still so young, especially Harry. Everyone already joked they were like an old married couple. They’d get there eventually; he was sure of it, but he couldn’t be thinking of that right now. He gave a small laugh. “No, nothing like that. I don’t want to get into it until Liam’s here if that’s okay, mate? We’d prefer to just explain things once to everyone at the same time.”

Zayn nodded. “Mind if I grab a smoke while we wait?” he asked, tilting his head toward the balcony door.

“Go on. I’ll just check on Harry.”

Niall was busy with his phone. Probably tweeting, Louis thought. He was sure their fans were wondering where Harry and Louis were. It was unusual for them to be absent from sight for this many days in a row. Wouldn’t hurt for Niall to mention he had seen them.

Louis knocked softly on the bedroom door before cracking it open. Harry was standing at the window, silhouetted against the bright sunlight streaming into the room. Harry had pulled up the blinds and held the sheer curtains slightly back, so he could look out, but still keep himself from view. The vision took Louis’ breath away—the graceful arch of his wings, the strong line of his body, his soft curly hair framing his gorgeous face. The sunlight landing on his feathers made them sparkle with an iridescent sheen, as if tiny rainbows were glinting off their surface. He really did look like an angel. It wasn’t the first time Louis thought Harry was almost too beautiful to be real, and with this amazing new development, he knew it wouldn’t be the last. Honestly, he had a hard time not staring at Harry on a normal day; it’d be almost impossible now. He’d keep his thoughts to himself, though. If he brought up angels again, he knew he’d never hear the end of it.

Harry looked over when Louis came into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Are they here?”

“Niall and Zayn are. Liam’s on his way.”

Harry nodded and looked back out the window, lost in thought.

Louis watched him for a moment then sighed. He walked over and slid next to him, slipping his arm around Harry’s waist and tucking himself against his side. “What’s going through that head of yours, Haz?”

Harry didn’t answer at first. When he did, Louis could tell he was crying. He knew if he looked up, Harry’s big green eyes would be brimming with tears. “I’m not ready for it to be over,” he said.

“For what to be over?”

“Any of it. All of it. The band. We were just getting started.”

“Whoa. Wait,” Louis said, pulling away so he could look at Harry’s face. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“And what about us? You’ll be travelling; we’ll never see each other—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Louis cut in. “Stop. Nothing’s going to come between us. You can count on that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will. Once tour starts. There’s no way—”

“I said stop.” Louis’ voice was sharp. Harry’s mouth snapped closed. “Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out already. I thought you said we’d decide on things together. The five of us.”

“I did, but let’s be realistic—”

“I said shut up,” Louis cut in again. “You’re really starting to piss me off. He was, too. It was as if Harry was giving voice to all Louis’ secret fears, letting his mind take the paths Louis hadn’t allowed his own to go. Well, he wasn’t willing to resign himself to the fate Harry was laying out. They were all smart lads. They should be able to figure something out.

Louis could hear voices in the other room. Liam must have finally arrived. “Good. Now everyone’s here. This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go out there, fill the others in, and put our heads together to work this thing out. I don’t want to hear another word about these stupid ideas you’ve been having, do you understand?”

Harry stared at Louis, eyes growing wider as he spoke. Then he reached up his hand to wipe away his tears, lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah, okay,” he said.

“Good.” Harry’s smile loosened something in Louis’ chest, but he was still wound up from their conversation. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before facing the others. “Do you want to wait here and let me talk to them first?”

Harry reached for Louis’ hand, shaking his head. “No. Let’s go out together.”

Louis squeezed Harry’s hand and nodded. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“All right then. Let’s go.”

The others were standing together in the living room talking when Louis and Harry came into the room. They all looked up at once and immediately fell silent. Harry’s wings gave a little flutter, opening up slightly, then folding down against his back.

“Shit, mate. Those look real,” Zayn said.

“They are real,” Louis responded.

“Right,” Zayn said with a laugh. His laughter cut off and his expression shifted as he watched Louis move protectively closer to Harry, both of them nervous and unsmiling. 

“That’s impossible,” Zayn said as Liam sat backward on the sofa, eyes never leaving Harry, as if he didn’t have the ability to both stand and process what he was seeing at the same time.

“Apparently not,” Louis said.

“Those are wings,” Liam said. “Harry, you’ve got wings.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Niall gave a sniff, head jerking back with a little expression that seemed to say, “Whoa there,” but he appeared to be taking it in stride, as if this was just another amazing adventure in their already charmed lives.

“Harry’s got wings,” Liam said again.

“It appears so,” said Zayn, his face registering the ‘what the fuck’ look Louis had been expecting from all of them, if he was honest.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of someone having wings before,” Liam said. “Are you sure you’re not having us on?”

“’Fraid not, mate,” Louis answered.

“How’d this happen? It can’t be normal, can it?”

Louis’ eyes immediately sought out Harry’s face to see his reaction to Liam’s question. Before he could grow too concerned, he was distracted by Niall’s laugh. 

“Nothing about our lives are normal. Why should this be any different?” Niall turned to Harry. “Have you tried them out yet? Do they work properly? Can you fly? That would be sick.”

He and Zayn crowded closer, trying to get a better look now that the initial shock was wearing off; Liam continued to sit on the sofa, still stunned. Niall reached out his hand toward Harry and Harry backed instinctively away, wings giving another little flutter. Niall held up his palms in a ‘hands off’ gesture.

“I haven’t tried yet,” Harry answered. “They’ve been really sore. I’ve mostly been healing. Things got… a little rough when they grew in.” He took a deep breath and stepped a little closer to Niall and Zayn. They circled around him, giving the wings a careful examination, making sure to keep their hands to themselves. Louis could feel the tension starting to leave Harry’s body as the others seemed to be adjusting to his revelation.

“So they just… grew in?” Zayn asked, still trying to wrap his head around things.

“Yeah. My back was sore, worse than usual, and then I woke up with them…” He shrugged. “…growing out of my shoulders.”

“Sick,” Niall said again.

“Have you seen a doctor?” Liam asked.

Louis answered for Harry. “I’ve been taking care of him. He didn’t want to tell anyone yet. Not until you three knew first. Need to try and figure out together what to do next.”

“You said healing, though. Are you all right, Harry? Is there anything we can do to help?”

Harry shook his head. “Louis did a great job taking care of me.” He turned to look down at Louis, smiling the smile that always made Louis’ stomach do a little swoop. Louis smiled back, momentarily lost in Harry’s eyes.

Liam cleared his throat, bringing them back to the present. “Right. So. Wings.” He slapped his hands down on the top of his thighs. “I suppose we better discuss how we’re going to handle this in the press, especially with the tour coming up. And we should probably call Paul. And Simon.”

“I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea,” Zayn said, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“I really don’t see any way around telling them.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant telling the press.”

“Better coming from us first, I think.”

Zayn was shaking his head furiously. “I don’t think you understand. Don’t you think it might be a little dangerous for this to get out? There’s going to be all sorts of people who are going to want in on this. Study him. Make sure, I don’t know, this wasn’t the work of aliens or something.”

Niall laughed again. “Aliens! That’d be something. You don’t think that’s what happened, do you, Harry?”

Louis could feel Harry growing tense again. He wondered if Harry had thought about the possibilities Zayn was outlining. Probably, he acknowledged ruefully. Harry’d most likely been worrying himself sick and Louis hadn’t even noticed, refusing to examine too closely some of the more disturbing thoughts that had crossed his mind, pushing them aside as thing he didn’t want to think about.

“Don’t really know what happened,” Harry said. 

“You can’t really think they’d take him away and lock him up to study him, can you? That’s… ” Liam asked. He couldn’t even finish the thought, he was so appalled.

Zayn shrugged. “I just think we need to be really careful. I don’t think anyone’s ever seen anything like this. It’s going to be big news. A lot bigger than One Direction. A lot bigger.”

“He’s right,” Harry said. “I don’t see any way I can go on tour. I need to drop out of the band.”

“Absolutely not,” Louis said at the same time Niall and Liam exclaimed, “What?” and “No.” Zayn kept silent.

Louis grew angry. “I thought you of all people would be on my side,” he said accusingly, pointing at Zayn.

“That’s not fair. I am on your side. I just think we need to be careful, is all. You want your boyfriend sent to a lab to be dissected?”

Louis could feel Harry sway at Zayn’s words. He turned in alarm, noting the slightly green tinge to Harry’s skin. He grabbed him, steadying him and helped Harry over to the sofa where he collapsed next to Liam. “You see what you’ve done?” Louis snapped. “You’re freaking Harry out. Are you all right, love?” he asked in a softer voice, kneeling down next to Harry, placing a hand on his knee. “You know none of us would ever let anything like that happen to you.”

“Would you be able to stop them, though?” Harry whispered, obviously still shaken.

Louis crawled right into Harry’s lap, knees on either side of his thighs and placed his hands on Harry’s cheeks, leaning in to kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth and sliding his tongue against Harry’s, tasting and stroking until he felt Harry’s hands reach for his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, body melting against his own. Pulling back, he smiled at the flush on Harry’s cheeks, the darkness of his pupils almost eclipsing the green. Much better. “They’d have to get through me first,” Louis said, with one last kiss.

“And me,” Liam said behind him, voice firm.

“Us too,” Niall spoke for Zayn. “We’re not gonna let anything happen to you, Harry. We’ve got your back.”

Louis continued to stare into Harry’s eyes, having a silent conversation with him, the way only they could do. He finally saw what he was looking for and Harry gave a slight nod of his head. Louis gave him one last quick peck, then shifted over, sliding off his lap to sit next to him on the sofa, snug against his side.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mumbled. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay.” Harry took a deep breath. “He’s right, you know,” he continued, looking around, first at Louis, then Liam and Niall. “It’ll have to be kept a secret. I just don’t see any way for me go on tour and perform.”

“Then we’ll cancel the tour,” Niall said. “We always said we’re in this together. If you’re not in the band, there is no One Direction. I think we all feel that way.”

The others were nodding in agreement.

“But the tickets are already sold. What about all the fans? People’s jobs? There’s a lot of people counting on us. We’d let everyone down. I don’t want that.”

“And I don’t want this if it isn’t with you,” Louis said. 

Harry turned to him and smiled, hand reaching for Louis’. He twined their fingers together and squeezed. Louis’ breath caught at the look on Harry’s face. He became lost in his eyes again and had to stop himself from crawling right back into Harry’s lap.

Liam cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “Right. So none of us wants Harry to leave the band and we don’t want to cancel the tour. We’ll just have to come up with something else then.”

“Like what?” Zayn asked.

“Well, I don’t know now, do I? I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t suppose there’s any way you can hide them?”

In response, the wings currently folded behind Harry shifted, moving, spreading until they were extended out to their full impressive span. All eyes were on him.

Deflated, Liam whooshed out a big breath of air. “No, I suppose not.”

“Be a shame to hide them anyway,” Niall chimed in. “They’re something else.”

“That they are,” Zayn agreed, eyes riveted. He walked closer, hand reaching out to stroke Harry’s feathers. 

Louis reacted without thinking, protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Jumping up, he batted Zayn’s hand away, smoothing his own hand across the top of Harry’s wing. The wing gave a shudder at Louis’ touch.

“Be careful there, mate,” Louis warned. “He’s still healing. See? He’s still sore.”

Niall gave a small barking laugh. “Don’t think that’s quite it, Lou.”

“What?”

“Don’t think that was because he’s sore. His wings like you.”

“They like me?”

“Yeah, touch them again.”

Louis spread his fingers, and slid them gently down the feathers on the inside of Harry’s extended wing. Once again, the wings gave a small shudder, almost like a shiver. A small delighted smile grew on Louis’ lips. His eyes flickered to Harry whose cheeks were lightly pinked, as if he were embarrassed by the wing’s reaction.

“See what I mean?” Niall asked.

“Yeah, I see.” The smile was still in his voice. He reached his fingers out again, but before he could make contact, Harry retracted his wings, folding them up until they settled across his back again. Louis gave him a heated look that said they’d be talking about that later, but allowed his attention to be turned back to the discussion at hand.

“Wait,” Liam said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, voice hopeful.

“What if we don’t do anything at all? Go on with the tour just as planned.”

“How’s that going to solve anything? That’s puts us right back where we started,” Niall said.

“No, this is brilliant,” Liam exclaimed. He started pacing.

“You’re going to have to explain yourself a little more, there, Li,” Louis said.

Liam stopped pacing and spoke. “We go on tour, the five of us. Harry too. We hide him in plain sight. Who’s going to think they’re real? I mean, it’s impossible, isn’t it? Everyone will assume it’s a costume. Maybe Lou can fix up some sort of harness for his chest to make it look more like he’s wearing them.”

Louis watched the others react to Liam’s suggestion. Their faces reflected Liam’s excitement. His enthusiasm was contagious and Louis felt himself getting caught up himself. It really was a brilliant idea, if they could pull it off.

Zayn spoke up. “We could all get some, maybe. If we switched out a few of the songs on the album—add that angel one back in, and the dreams one, and that one about flying high. Drop some of the party stuff, the theme could fit. We’d have to re-shoot some of the promo, maybe go back to the studio but it could work.”

“Is it too late to make those kinds of changes?” Louis asked.

“Dunno. Probably. But what choice do we have? Better to eat some cost up front and delay the release than have to scrap the tour.”

“Niall? What do you think?” Louis asked.

“It’s a good idea. It definitely could work. I say we call Simon and get him in on this and get his opinion. Hey,” he added with a grin at Zayn. “You should talk to Perrie about letting us cover _Wings_ during the show.”

“Isn’t that about a butterfly?”

“It’s metaphorical.”

“Well, aren’t you the intellectual.”

“All right, lads,” Liam cut in. “We can sort out the details later. Are we in agreement?” They nodded. He turned to Harry. “What about you, Harry? What we decide doesn’t even matter if you’re not up for it. What do you say? I think we can make it work.”

Harry turned to Louis. “Lou?” His eyes were big and trusting and Louis knew that Harry would agree to whatever he said. The decision couldn’t be his, though; it had to be Harry’s. But he could be honest, at the very least. 

“I think you know what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted. To do this with you. All of us together. I’m not ready for it to end either. But it’s not my decision to make; it’s got to be yours. We’ll support you, whatever you decide.”

Harry nodded, understanding. “Then my decision is yes. I’ll go with the plan. Let’s call Simon and get things rolling.”

“Brilliant,” Liam said. He moved to sit next to Harry on the sofa, he and Louis sandwiching him between them. “We’ve got your back. We’re all in this together. Right boys?” he asked, turning to Zayn and Niall.

“Right,” Niall said, diving toward the boys on the couch and landing half on Harry’s and half on Liam’s lap. “C’mon, Zayn, group cuddle!” 

Zayn chuffed a little laugh, but piled on, causing Louis to puff out a dramatic, “Ooof.” They were all laughing, limbs everywhere. 

Harry’s wings spread, opening behind him, then they folded over the other boys who were wriggling on the sofa, wrapping around them like a cloak of feathers.

Chapter 3 coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry was exhausted. Simon had arrived, put out that they had refused to meet him at the office, but stopped short when Harry walked into the room. After the initial round of explanations and Simon determining for himself that Harry’s wings were, after all, actually real, they had spent hours discussing Liam’s plan—to hide Harry in plain sight.

Ever practical, Simon immediately took their initial ideas and ran with them, devising an elaborate game change to their current world tour.

“I think we can make this work,” he said. “We’ve gotten some initial feedback on the new single and a lot of parents, especially in America—you know how they are about sex—think it’s too mature for their teenage daughters. Already, we were thinking it might have been too soon to shift the focus in that particular direction. It’s going to take a lot of work for everyone, especially you boys,” he cautioned, “but I think it might actually be better in the long run if we switch it up from sex to—I don’t know—following your dreams. You know, aiming high, flying high… something of that sort. There will be plenty of time on your third album to move the focus back to sex.” 

Zayn snickered.

“Right. What you boys get up to in your spare time is your own business.”

“What spare time?” Niall mumbled under his breath.

“What about the lecture we got in Australia? After the gambling?” Liam asked.

“And what about those girls in the hotel in Chicago?” Zayn asked.

“And how about that—“ Louis started before he was cut off.

“All right. Point taken.” He held up his hand to stop them. “Everything you do ends up being our business. Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “But that’s not what we need to be focusing on at the present time.”

“Right. So, where were we?” Liam asked, trying to bring order.

“Casual sex,” Zayn reminded them with a sly look and snickered again. The other boys joined in with laughter.

Simon threw up his hands in mock defeat and collapsed back on the sofa, but there was a smile on his face.

After giving the boys a few moments to get the giggles out of their systems, Simon reined them in to iron out the details.

“So you’re all in agreement? We’ll rework the album and the tour. Harry? You’re certain you’re okay with this?”

“If you really think it will work.”

“I do. It’ll be a very tight schedule, but I think it can be done. We’ll handle things on a need-to-know basis. Besides you boys, who else knows about Harry’s… wings?” He stumbled over the word, their existence still strange to accept.

“No one. I’m going to tell my mum,” Harry said. “I feel like I should have called her straight off, but I didn’t know how to tell her without her worrying and wanting to drive to London. I think it’ll be easier now that we’ve all discussed it and have a plan.”

“Of course you’ve got to tell her,” Simon immediately agreed. “And Gemma too, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah.”

Simon nodded.

“We’ve talked about this a bit already,” Louis spoke up. “Who to tell. Definitely Paul. We weren’t actually sure if we should call him first, but decided he’d probably take it better coming from you, what with all the pranks we’ve pulled on him in the past. I’m quite certain he wouldn’t have believed us.”

“Probably not,” Simon agreed. “So Paul, without question. Your safety’s got to be our first priority. I’ll leave it up to him to determine who else, if anyone, on the security team should be informed. He knows much better than I who can be trusted.”

The boys nodded their agreement. 

“Lou as well, obviously,” Louis continued. “As close as she is to us, she’d figure it out on her own. And Harry would end up telling her anyway. We thought she’d be able to fix up some sort of chest harness or something for Harry. To make it look like the wings are a costume.”

“That’s a good idea,” Simon said. “I think you should all be getting a set. Of wings,” he clarified. “Maybe not as large as Harry’s—let his be front and centre—but it’d make sense. Victoria’s Secret manages it; we can too.”

“What’s Victoria’s Secret?” Niall asked.

“An American lingerie company. They do a runway show and all the models wear angel wings,” said Liam. 

The others shot him curious looks.

“What? Danielle likes them. They have a catalogue and everything. Anyway, I like the idea of us all getting a pair. Don’t you?”

They started chatting excitedly, talking about what their own wings would look like. 

“Niall’s should be white, of course,” Louis cracked. “Virginal.” 

Niall rolled his eyes in response. “Still not funny, Louis,” he said.

“I think white would look quite nice with Niall’s colouring,” Liam said, attempting to play peacemaker.

“Thanks, mate.”

“No problem, Nialler.”

“I want a black set,” Zayn said.

“Too much like Harry’s,” Louis said. “Unless,” he looked thoughtful, “you had some yellow and red on the underside, to match your tattoos.”

“That’d be sick,” Niall said.

“Yeah, that’d look cool,” Zayn agreed. “Plus his aren’t true black, are they? Make mine a shade darker.”

“What about you?” Louis asked, looking at Liam. “What sort of wings would you like?”

Liam shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. Whatever Lou thinks will look best, I suppose. She’s got better taste than I do.”

Louis tilted his head and gave a small shrug, as if agreeing with his answer. 

“What about yours?” Liam asked Louis.

“His should be multicoloured,” Harry said, weighing in for the first time. “Like a hummingbird. Or speckled, in shades of greys or browns, with a few brightly coloured ones thrown in—maybe some blues or greens or purples. You know… a tropical flair.”

“Aw, that’s sounds smashing, love,” Louis said with a radiant smile in Harry’s direction.

“Only the best for you,” Harry smiled in return.

Simon was rolling his eyes.

“Right. I’ll get Lou right on that. What else?”

“See if she can do something about clothes. Harry and I tried to modify some of his shirts, but our results were mostly shite and we just ended up ruining them. Maybe Lou could come up with something that’d actually work.”

Simon nodded, taking out his phone and tapping in some notes. “I’m going to set up a meeting with her. Harry, I’ll let you know when it is.”

“Surprised you’re even suggesting covering all that up, mate,” Niall joked, waving at Harry’s bare torso.

“Probably wants to keep it all to himself, yeah?” Zayn suggested. Niall laughed in agreement.

“Shut it, you two,” Louis said, with a scowl, but it turned into a quick wink when he looked over at Harry who was staring at him with a fond smile.

After more discussion on what their change in plans would entail—more studio hours, new promo shots, a _lot_ of work—Liam, Zayn and Niall left while Simon stayed behind to talk to Harry and Louis alone.

“Harry,” he said, face serious. “I need you to be honest with me. Is this what you want? If you have any doubt… any doubt at all, you need to let me know. None of this is more important than your health and safety. I don’t want you to think about letting anyone down, or jobs, or the fans, or any of that. I want you to think about you. What you want. And if this isn’t it, that’s okay. I promise you, I’m behind you 100% percent, whatever you decide. I’ll handle the studio… management... everyone. We’ll make it work. So tell me honestly. Are you certain you’re up for this?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He looked at Louis, who had been nodding along to Simon’s words. Louis reached over to take Harry’s hand. “He’s right,” Louis said. “If you want to change your mind, no one will think any less of you. And,” he continued, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze, “you’ll always have me, no matter what. You know that, right?”

The look Harry gave Louis, full of love and gratitude and certainty, green eyes so intense, made Louis catch his breath. How had he got so lucky? No, he was never letting Harry go; nothing could make him. He squeezed Harry’s hand again. His heart thumped in his chest at Harry’s answering squeeze and the small private smile he sent Louis before turning to answer Simon. 

“I do have doubts. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. This is all new and I don’t really know what’s going to happen.” He shot Louis another quick glance before continuing, addressing them both, voice steady and sure. “But this is what I want.”

Simon’s bearing relaxed almost imperceptibly and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. “Then we’ll make it happen. Good lad.”

Harry smiled and Louis scooted closer, sliding an arm around his waist.

Simon stared at them both for another moment, head tilted to the side, as if giving something deep consideration.

“I know we said on a need-to-know basis, but I think it might be best to have a doctor look you over, make—”

“No,” Louis cut in sharply.

Simon raised his eyebrows.

Flustered, Louis tried to explain his outburst. “It’s just… well… he’s healed now. And I think it’s risky, don’t you? They might want to do tests, or…” He stammered a bit, holding himself back from repeating some of the more alarming scenarios the boys had brought up earlier. “I think we should hold off. Harry’s not in any pain now, are you, love?”

“No.”

“And, as I mentioned, he’s healed up nicely.”

“What do you think, Harry?” Simon asked. “Do you agree?”

“Yeah. I’d rather not.”

Simon looked thoughtful, as if the responsible thing to do was to try to convince them to alter their decision, but after a moment he nodded. “All right. We’ll do it your way for now. But you’ll let me know right away if they start giving you trouble?”

“I promise.”

There had been more conversation—discussions about Eleanor and whether she should be told (not at this time), questions about how the two of them were handling keeping their relationship secret (“It’s hard,” Harry had said. “But we both think it’s worth it.” Louis had agreed.), various other topics—but Simon had finally left the two of them alone, promising to email their new schedules when they had worked everything out.

Then Harry had disappeared into the bedroom to call his mum, reappearing a half hour later with red-rimmed eyes. 

“You all right, love?” Louis had asked, coming out from the kitchen the moment he heard the door open, having uncharacteristically spent the time tidying up from their visitors, trying to rid himself of his nervous energy.

Harry nodded and sagged against Louis who held him tightly.

“She wants to come to London.”

“Not surprised.”

“I told her not to.”

“You sure? Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea? Probably just wants to see for herself that you’re all right.”

“We’re going to be far too busy.”

“Still be able to spend time after work, though.”

Harry didn’t answer, just buried his face in Louis’ neck, shaking his head no. After a moment, Louis could feel Harry’s mouth mumbling against his skin.

“What’s that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

Lifting his face away from Louis’ skin, he repeated in a low voice, “Don’t want her to see me like this.”

Louis pulled back and took Harry’s face in between his hands. Harry wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Look at me.”

He waited until Harry complied, his big green eyes beginning to well up again.

“You’re beautiful, Haz. And your wings are beautiful, just like everything about you.” He leaned in to kiss Harry softly on the lips. “Your mum will think so too. All right?”

Harry nodded.

Louis kissed him again. “Good. How about a cuppa?”

“Yeah, tea sounds good.”

Louis studied Harry whose complexion was starting to go a little grey; he could see the exhaustion sweeping over him. “Lie down, love,” Louis urged, walking him over to the sofa and gently pushing him to sit. He helped shift his legs up on the cushions, so Harry was stretched out facing the back of the sofa, wings hanging over the edge, dusting the floor. He was asleep before the water had even heated.

Harry blinked as he stretched, rubbing his hands over his eyes, wiping the sleep away. He smiled sweetly at Louis who was sitting in a nearby chair watching the telly.

“Time is it?” he asked.

“Half past seven.”

“Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

Louis smiled, putting the show he was watching on hold and moving to the sofa. He leaned down to kiss Harry’s forehead before shifting his legs, sitting down, then settling them back over his thighs.

“S’okay. You needed it.”

“I guess I did.”

“You feel all right?”

Harry didn’t answer immediately, giving the question some thought before saying, “Yeah. Feel fine.”

“That’s good.” Louis patted Harry’s knee and stroked his hand absently over his thigh.

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you say that about the doctor? When Simon asked about finding one to see me? I thought you wanted a doctor to check everything out.”

“Do you want a doctor to take a look at them?” he asked instead of answering Harry’s question.

”Well, no. But you do, don’t you?”

“I did, but… not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“They’re pretty much healed up right, haven’t they?”

With a rustle of feathers, Harry’s wings moved. Shifting up to a sitting position, Harry opened them, leaning back against the armrest. The wings gave a small flap, then a second, before folding back down, draped over the side of the sofa.

“Seem to be fine,” Harry replied. “At least they don’t hurt anymore, though the muscles in my back and shoulders are sore. Still getting used to them, I guess.”

Louis nodded as if that was the end of the conversation.

Harry, however, didn’t think it was.

“Lou?” He poked Louis’ thigh with his foot.

“It’s just that…”

“Yeah?” Harry prodded when he didn’t continue.

“It’s going to sound stupid.” He could feel an embarrassed flush heating his cheeks.

“That’s okay. I’m used to that.”

With a roll of his eyes, Louis gave the top of Harry’s foot a light slap. “Ha. Ha.”

“C’mon Lou.”

Louis took a deep breath and said, not looking at Harry, “I know how this sounds, I really do, but… I think of them as mine.” The last words came out in a rush.

“What?” Harry asked, as if not sure he had heard correctly.

Louis stared at Harry defiantly. “I think of them as mine, all right? Your wings. I’m the one who’s been taking care of them. I don’t want some doctor’s hands all over you, poking, prodding, wanting to do tests. You’re not some specimen or experiment. You’re mine.”

“I am yours.” Harry said it as if it were a given.

“I know that wasn’t very P.C. of me or whatever.”

“I get what you mean.” Harry’s face wore a smile.

Louis thought back to all the times Harry had reacted to others touching him, the jealousy he was never able to hide. “Yeah,” Louis said with a small laugh. “I guess you probably do. That reminds me…” He pushed Harry’s legs off his lap and stood up, holding out his hands for Harry who raised his eyebrows questioningly. “C’mon. Stand up. I want to try something.”

Harry let himself be pulled to his feet.

“Can you…” Louis motioned toward Harry’s wings with his hands, moving them apart, indicating he wanted Harry to open them. Once the wings were extended, Louis stepped closer. He reached out and ran his finger along the top of a wing, starting just before the rise at the joint, trailing it down toward the tip. The feathers vibrated as the wing shuddered in response, just as it had earlier. Harry’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Your wings think they’re mine too,” Louis said in a voice that was a cross between smug and turned-on with a hint of wonder weaved in. 

“I told you,” Harry said. “I am yours.” His pupils had grown dark and large, stare intense, just from that one small caress. Louis felt an answering curl of desire in his belly.

“I’ve been reading up on them,” Louis said, sliding his finger across the top of the wing again, breath catching at Harry’s immediate response. “Wings,” he clarified. “Feathers. Do you want to know what I’ve learned?” His eyes moved to Harry’s again.

Harry swallowed and nodded.

“The bones are similar to a human arm, with the shoulder, elbow and wrist. Here, here, and here.” He ran his hand across the wing, following the skeletal structure, smoothing across the feathers in a light caress. “These feathers are the primaries,” Louis continued, brushing his fingers from the tip of the wing down the fan of feathers at the bottom. “They’re attached to your wing hand. Like fingers. They’re for flight. You can see how they’re a little longer and more pointed than the rest.”

“So you’re basically holding my hand right now.”

“Something like that,” Louis said with a smile, stroking his fingers back and forth along the edge of Harry’s wing, caressing the underside of the fan of feathers with the back of his hand. He reached for Harry’s actual hand with his other hand and starting stroking it as well, tracing the tip of his finger across the back, sliding it between Harry’s fingers. They twitched in response, as if they wanted to grab hold.

Moving closer, Louis slid his hand to the second fan of feathers closer to Harry’s body. “These are the secondaries, extending from the forearm. Also for flight. They’re more rounded at the bottom than the primaries. The purpose of these remiges—that’s what the flight feathers are called, the primaries and secondaries—is thrust and lift.” He placed emphasis on both words and looked up at Harry through his lashes with a small wicked grin. Harry simply stared at him, lips slightly open.

Then Louis moved his hand higher on the wing, to the next row of feathers, smaller and more densely packed. “These are the coverts,” he said, speaking low in Harry’s ear. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and his wing shuddered again as Louis continued to stroke the feathers with his fingers. “They help with aerodynamics.” 

Louis brought Harry’s hand to his face, kissing the palm. His other hand stroked along the top of the wing again, sliding across the bends of his joints. It stopped at the wrist. “These are your alulae. The thumb feathers,” he said. As soon as the words left his lips, Louis sucked Harry’s thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and hollowing his cheeks. Harry’s eyes snapped open and Louis gaze was caught by the look of pure arousal on Harry’s face, pupils blown so wide there was only a tiny sliver of green at the edges. Louis gave the thumb one last wet suck, sliding it from his lips. Then he leaned in, breath hot in Harry’s ear. “It’s sometimes called the ‘bastard wing’ or ‘spurious wing’.” He couldn’t resist a small nip against the shell of Harry’s ear, smoothing over the bite immediately with his tongue. Harry’s mouth parted in a small gasp and he wet his lips. 

Taking the action as an invitation, Louis moved his mouth to Harry’s, hands coming up to cup his face, kissing him slowly, licking across his bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, then sliding their tongues together until their mouths were fused. The kiss turned deep, mouths opening wider. Louis could feel Harry’s hands move to his hips, holding on as he moaned into Louis’ mouth. After a few moments, Louis pulled away, biting gently against Harry’s jaw, taking a small step backward. Harry’s eyes were trained on Louis’ mouth. 

“The alulae are used to slow things down,” Louis said.

“I don’t think they’re working.”

Louis gave a small pleased laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. He took a moment to appreciate Harry’s flushed cheeks then moved his attention back to the feathers on the underside of Harry’s wing, giving another small caress before saying, “I don’t want the other wing to get jealous.” 

“Good plan,” Harry said, voice sounding slightly breathless.

Reaching out toward the opposite side, Louis repeated the actions he had taken on the first, sliding his hand across the top, saying, “Shoulder, elbow, wrist,” at each of the joints. “Fingers,” as his hand slid down the primaries. “Forearm,” as he stroked the secondaries, and then he lifted Harry’s hand back to his mouth, sucking gently on his wrist before licking a stripe from his wrist to the tip of his thumb, saying, “Thumb.” He sucked it into his mouth while caressing the corresponding feathers. Harry’s eyes drifted shut again and he gave a small whimper that went straight to Louis’ cock.

Knowing Harry’s reaction had to be even more intense, Louis looked down, noting the tenting of Harry’s tracksuit bottoms. Sliding his hand back and forth, back and forth across the row of feathers, he leaned in, asking softly in Harry’s ear, “Does this feel good?”

Harry nodded yes, eyes still closed. 

Louis let go of his fingers and slid his hand down Harry side, slipping them underneath the elastic waistband, teasing his fingers against Harry’s skin. “Let’s move these out of the way, yeah?” he asked, licking along the shell of Harry’s ear.

Harry nodded again and wasted no time pushing the tracksuit bottoms down to his thighs, letting his erection spring free. The tip was wet and glistening, beaded with pre-come.

“That’s gorgeous, love,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hip, nipping at his ear again. Harry’s hand reached for his dick but Louis stopped him with another squeeze, fingers digging into his side. “No, don’t touch yourself,” he said. Harry’s hand fell back to his thigh; he gave a frustrated huff.

Louis just breathed into his ear, continuing to stroke Harry’s feathers. “They’re softer under here,” Louis said, touching the smaller feathers closer to the bone. Harry’s dick jerked in response and his chest heaved as he sucked in a breath.

“You think you could come like this?” Louis asked, hot in his ear. “With me touching you this way?” His own breathing was deepening, jeans uncomfortably tight.

“Don’t know,” Harry whispered.

“There’s still one more type of feather I can tell you about.” Louis didn’t stop his rhythmic movements while he spoke.

“Okay.” Harry’s said. Louis could hear his voice growing rough.

Louis shifted around to Harry’s side, pressing up against his arm, teeth biting gently into his shoulder. He tilted his hips forward, rocking them, so Harry could feel his own erection against his thigh. One of his hands slid up Harry’s front, stopping to rub his nipples, first the smaller one then the one on his chest. His other hand gave Harry’s waist a small squeeze, the slid up his back, right to where the wings were connected at the shoulder. 

“These are the scapulars,” Louis mumbled against his skin. He could feel Harry’s heart pounding beneath his other hand splayed across Harry’s chest, nipple lightly trapped between his first two fingers. “They’re the feathers that transition the wing to the shoulder. Yours are really smooth.” He stroked his fingers down the feathers, marvelling a little at how natural they had become to him, the way they seamlessly connected the wings to Harry’s body. Louis moved his fingers away and used his hand to push the wing back, enough so that he could duck his head underneath. Then he licked along the line of feathers, right where they met Harry’s skin. 

The noise from Harry’s mouth, a choked and desperate sound, made Louis immediately repeat the action.

“Lou,” Harry whimpered.

Louis gripped the edge of Harry’s wing in his palm, giving a firm stroke along the edge as he licked a third time.

“I need to… can I…” Harry gasped out.

Louis took pity and slid his hand away from Harry’s nipple, down to his cock, giving it a tug as he ran his other hand over the wing edge again, nuzzling his face against the scapulars. 

Harry’s entire body shook, cock pulsing in Louis’ hand as he came with a shout. Louis stroked him through his orgasm, rubbing his own cock against Harry’s hip, so turned on by Harry’s reaction he was afraid he’d come in his jeans.

He didn’t need to worry about that, though, because the moment Harry stopped coming, he dropped to his knees, fumbling with the button of Louis’ jeans. Then he was tugging them down, freeing Louis’ cock and sucking it into his mouth with a satisfied groan, as if he were _hungry_ for it.

“Christ,” Louis said, hands reaching for Harry’s hair, burying themselves in the curls, holding on for dear life as Harry bobbed up and down, mouth sloppy and wet. He looked up at Louis, eyes still dark, wings outstretched behind him, rippling with the aftershocks of his release. “You look…” Louis began, words ending in a moan as Harry took him deep, sucking hard, swirling his tongue around Louis’ cock. His knees almost buckled as the orgasm overtook him. He shut his eyes, hands gripping Harry’s hair as he came down Harry’s throat.

When he recovered, he pushed Harry away, shuddering from sensitivity as his mouth pulled off his dick, then dropped down to the ground, taking Harry’s face between his hands and kissing him, languid and deep. Then he wound his arms around Harry, leaning on his shoulder, face pressing into his neck, humming with contentment. Harry buried his face in Louis’ hair, arms slipping around his back, rubbing gently. They sat quietly, wrapped up in each other.

After a few minutes, Louis mumbled, “I really really like your wings.”

Harry snorted. “Well you were right. Apparently, they like you too.” And then they were both shaking with laughter.

Chapter 4 coming soon


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

“We’ve got Kristin on the line right now. Hi, Kristin. It’s Nick Grimshaw. Good morning. You’re on the Radio 1 Breakfast Show with Harry Styles.”

“Hi. Oh my god. I can’t believe I got through.”

“Must be your lucky day. Do you have a question for Harry?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Hi Kristin. It’s Harry.”

“I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

“Shall we come back to you? Do you need a moment? A paper bag to breathe in, perhaps?”

“No! Sorry. Sorry. I just can’t believe I’m talking to Harry Styles. Oh my god.”

“What’s your question for Harry, Kristin?”

“Okay. Yes, okay. Harry, we heard you were ill. Is that why the album’s not coming out yet?”

“Nice to meet you Kristin.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry! I love you!”

“Love you too. And yes, I was ill. Me and Louis thought we’d got food poisoning, but it turned out to be a stomach virus. We’re both better now.”

“That’s good news!”

“You know you’re rumoured to be dying of some horrible disease. You’re saying that’s not true, Harry?”

“’Fraid not, Nick.”

“That would be quite tragic. Popstar on the rise, life cut short. Simply tragic. Would probably make for a good movie, though. Get somebody like Zac Efron to play you. Be a smash hit.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Hmm. Harry, I’m sure Kristin wants to know why the album’s being delayed. Can you tell us anything about that?”

“Yeah, sure. We really wanted this second album to be a little more personal. Once it started coming together, we talked about it and didn’t really think it was saying everything we wanted.”

“Bit risky to make last minute changes, don’t you think?”

“Dunno. I guess it might be. But we want to put out something we’re proud of. Our fans deserve that. And we’ll be on tour with the album for an entire year. I think that’d be hard if it wasn’t something we all felt passionate about.”

“What did your management have to say about all this?”

“They’re very supportive. Of course they tried to talk us out of it. We know it doesn’t look good, and it’s a lot more work for everyone. But once we explained our thinking, they came around. We’ve got a great team behind us and they give us great advice, but it’s the five of ours’ decision. If it turns out to be a bad choice, that’s on us. I don’t think it is, though. I’m really happy with it.”

“There you have it, Kristin. Straight from Harry himself. Are you excited about the new album?”

“Really excited! I can’t wait!”

“Yes, well, I suppose you’ll have to. Anything else you’d like to say to Harry before we have to let him go? Famous popstars have their schedules to keep, you know.”

“I love you, Harry! And the rest of the boys! Thank you!! Tell Niall I love him!”

“Will do. Love you too! Good bye.”

“Thanks for calling in, Harry, and helping to put all those horrible rumours to bed. Glad to hear you’re not dying!”

“Me too.”

“What’s the worst rumour you’ve heard about yourself? I’m sure you must hear loads.”

“There’s been a rumour going round that I’m actually already dead.”

“Any truth to that one?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.”

“Good to hear, good to hear. Thanks again for calling in to BBC’s Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Harry Styles of One Direction, everyone, alive and well.”

“No problem. Bye.”

Louis walked into the room just as Harry was finishing. “You all done there?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Was that Nick’s show?”

“Yeah. You weren’t listening?”

“No. Was planning to, but Paul called. Car’s going to be here in ten.”

“All right. Let me get some clothes on.” Harry spoke from the middle of the bed, sheet draped low around his hips. “Don’t suppose you put the kettle on.”

“Tea’s waiting for you in the kitchen, love,” Louis said, walking to the bed and bracing himself on one knee to bend over for a kiss.

Harry leaned into it humming, eyes fluttering shut. He shuddered when Louis’ hand stroked across the curve of his wing.

Pulling back, he whimpered, “Lou. C’mon. That’s not fair. You said we only had ten minutes.”

Louis smirked and gave a little shrug of his shoulders. “I like the way they react to me.”

“Yeah, well, now’s not the time.”

Louis leaned in again, kissing Harry soundly, biting down on his bottom lip and soothing over it with his tongue while his hand gave the curve of Harry’s wing another strong stroke. Then he pulled away laughing, calling over his shoulder as he left the room, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Harry picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it after him, shouting, “You’re an arse.”

His dick was already hard.

Living with wings had been a big enough adjustment, but the way they responded to Louis was something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to. Not that he was sure he even wanted to.

And Louis was the only one who caused this kind of reaction. Now that the others had got used to Harry’s wings, there’d been plenty of times they’d touched them casually, not even seeming to notice they’d given the bend of his wings a quick squeeze and not his shoulder. Lou, their stylist, had also put her hands all over them while fitting him out for his modified clothing—measuring, moving them aside to make adjustments, draping them over the fabric of his shirts and jackets.

Little Lux, especially, had pawed them excessively, fascinated by the wings, her eyes growing huge the first time she saw them before she broke out into a delighted laugh, clapping her hands and saying, “Hawwy biwrd!” Her response was almost enough to make him not feel like such a freak. She loved for him to get on his hands and knees so she could sit on his back and demand that he fly. Harry would extend his wings and flap them slowly, ruffling her hair as the air whooshed by. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing her happy belly laugh.

But his reaction when Louis touched his wings was far different. It was as if they were attuned to Louis’ touch, responding to even the slightest brush of his feathers. They’d shiver and Harry would be instantly aroused. Louis was well aware of the effect he had on Harry too, teasing and tormenting him every chance he got. The only consolation Harry had was that his own reaction caused a similar one in Louis; he got just as turned on from touching Harry. Admittedly, it wasn’t as if it were all that different from how they were around each other before the wings, but for some reason, the wings seemed to enhance their reactions to each other. At times he thought about ways to describe what was happening between them, and if he didn’t think it sounded so corny, he might say that his wings were in love with Louis. No surprise there, since the rest of him was too.

Harry thought about the night before, Louis telling him to lie on his stomach after he complained about his sore back from a long day in the studio. They’d both been naked and Louis took his time massaging his muscles, digging in deep with strong fingers. He alternated work on Harry’s body with caresses of his wings, stroking his hands over the feathers. At every touch, arousal would wash over Harry, swamping him in wave after wave until he could barely think. He could only lie moaning helplessly, painfully hard. 

Then Louis had urged Harry up on his knees, working Harry’s arse until he was practically boneless, first with the massage, then opening him up with his tongue—licking at his entrance with long slow slides of his tongue, little kitten licks, deep penetrating prods. He’d followed with slick lubed fingers, prepping Harry until he was practically shaking. His hands were clenched in the sheets, face pressed into the bed and his wings were out, rippling in reaction to every little thing Louis did.

When Louis slid in, blunt head of his cock breaching his entrance, hands grabbing at the wings for leverage where they emerged from Harry’s shoulders, Harry thought he’d die from the sensation, the pleasure almost too much to bear. His wings flapped and Louis held on tight, hips thrusting deep.

Harry could feel Louis’ firm grip on his wings straight in his cock. Every squeeze of his feathers felt as if Louis’ hands were on his dick, bringing him off. He tried to hold back his orgasm, to make it last longer, but after just a few more thrusts, Harry was coming, untouched, his entire body seizing with pleasure, back arching, head thrown back, wings spread wide as he made a mess of the sheets beneath him.

Then he collapsed forward, face back down on the bed, trembling all over, wings settling to rest on the sheets. After a few moments, he became aware that Louis was still inside him, unmoving, but keeping him full. One of Louis’ hands held his hip and the other was stroking soothingly over his back, down his spine, over his arse. He was murmuring words of appreciation and love.

“…no idea how amazing you look. Thought you were beautiful before, but like this, god, Haz, never seen anything more gorgeous in my life. You’re amazing and I’m so fucking lucky to have you.”

His hand stilled as he noticed Harry was coming back after his intense orgasm. 

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah.” He gave a little laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Louis gave another stroke along his back then asked, “Can I…?” He accompanied the question with a small movement of his hips, pulling out just the slightest, then pushing back in.

Harry sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering, as his body, over-sensitised, reacted.

“Yeah. Just… go slow, all right?”

And Louis had gone slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Long, deep strokes, hands rubbing the cheeks of Harry’s arse, heating them with his palms, spreading them apart, resting his thumbs right at the rim where his cock slid in and out.

Harry, eyes closed, arse in the air, felt the almost unbearable sensitivity shift back to arousal. When Louis’ hands slid up his back and began stroking across his wings again, he thought he might actually pass out from the pleasure. Every inch of his skin was on fire, burning up from the inside out. His heart pounded and his cock was rock hard. He could hear Louis behind him, breathing laboured, hips becoming more erratic as his rhythm shifted into short hard thrusts.

“Gonna come,” Louis groaned out.

“God, touch me, Lou,” Harry begged.

Louis reached around, fisting Harry’s cock in his hand and then Harry was coming again, a jagged moan leaving his lips, tears squeezing from his eyes as his body spasmed uncontrollably with his release. With one more hard thrust Louis was coming too, leaning over Harry’s back, mouth pressing against his hot skin, panting as he filled Harry with his come.

As soon as Louis pulled out, Harry’s knees collapsed and Louis lay draped over him, skin hot and damp with sweat, his face buried in the juncture between Harry’s wings. He rubbed his face in the feathers humming with contentment and Harry shivered all over, groaning. A clumsy hand reached out to stroke a wing and Harry didn’t think he could bear it; goose pimples broke out all over his skin and his cock gave a twitch beneath him.

Groaning again, he said, “You’ve got to stop. I can’t take any more. You’re going to kill me.”

He felt a muffled laugh against his feathers and Louis gave the wing one last pet, eliciting a whimpered, “Lou,” from Harry as he tried to buck him from his body.

Louis relented and crawled off, sliding under one of Harry’s wings so they could lie face to face.

“You’re fucking amazing,” Louis said, lazy smile on his lips, eyes sleepy, but shining with love.

“Sure you don’t mean amazing fucking?” Harry quipped back.

Louis laughed. “That too. Though that’s always been amazing.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, eyes starting to drift closed. “Was good. Really good.”

“Really, really good,” Louis agreed, giving Harry a sweet kiss and snuggling closer.

Harry turned a little to the side, winding his arm around Louis’ waist and hooking their ankles together. He retracted one wing, folding it up against his back but left the other where it was, draped over Louis like a blanket. They were both asleep in moments. 

He had woken up in the early hours of morning, achingly hard, Louis fast asleep next to him. Sometime during the night, Louis had snuggled even farther under his wing and his steady breathing sent soft puffs of air against the feathers. Unable to stand the stimulation, Harry removed the wing and closed it behind his back. Louis, restless from the sudden loss of warmth, burrowed even closer against Harry, nudging a thigh between his legs. That was almost worse as he brushed up against Harry’s cock. 

Harry pulled the sheet up over them both and moved away from Louis so his erection wasn’t rubbing against Louis’ warm body, but Louis only shifted closer in his sleep, face nuzzling against Harry’s chest. Harry closed his eyes in frustration, tempted to wake Louis up, but knowing they both hadn’t been getting nearly enough sleep lately. Instead, he carefully disentangled himself and slid out of bed, deciding he could take care of himself in the shower.

He had just slicked himself up with a soapy hand, head tilted back under the spray when he heard the sound of the shower door opening. Louis slipped in behind him and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, saying, “Here, let me.”

The combination of the hot spray, Louis’ face buried in his feathers, body pressed tightly against the wings folded down his back, and the practiced movements of Louis’ sure hand had him coming in minutes. He had returned the favour, slicking up Louis’ cock and bringing him off whilst kissing him soundly, the water streaming over their faces.

Then they had returned to bed, exhausted in the best way, too tired to deal with the soiled sheets.

Harry could feel the effects of the night before as he pulled on his trousers and got ready for their long day. He grabbed one of the concert T-shirts that had been modified for him, slit down the back with Velcro closures at the neck and below the wings, then got out one of the kitted-out jackets. It, also, was slit down the back, an area cut out for the wings, with the collar remaining intact. A zip, cleverly hidden, closed the garment from the inside, up under the wings. He walked to the kitchen asking Louis, who was sat drinking his tea, “Can you zip me up?”

“Turn around,” Louis said, nodding. “Wings up,” he added. Then he reached to the underside, fastening the jacket closed in a well-rehearsed manner. “Let me do the straps for you,” he said when he was finished in the back. “Drink your tea. The car will be here any minute.”

“Thanks.”

The jacket had been designed with leather straps sewn inside on the shoulders. They crisscrossed over his chest, with another wrapping across his rib cage, and fastened with sturdy buckles to give the appearance they were holding the wings in place. Once Louis was done, he tugged the t-shirt down at the waist, smoothing the jacket at the shoulders and giving a nod of satisfaction.

“All set.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the table and taking a few last sips of tea before heading to the door, the car having arrived and announced its arrival with the beep of a horn.

Harry opened the door to the garage and they both climbed in, greeting Paul, ready to start another busy day.

Once Simon had set the wheels in motion, events had progressed rapidly. Harry and Louis were moved into a small cottage on the outskirts of London, its private drive and attached garage allowing them to enter and exit their home without being seen. Schedules were insane. They were on the move constantly—studio time, photo shoots, fittings, rehearsals, interviews. Lots of interviews.

When the news broke that One Direction’s second album was going to be delayed, the rumour mill had gone into overdrive. Critics jumped at the chance to predict the pop band’s downfall, assuming the album must be seriously flawed to need reworking so close to its scheduled release. Others, however, judged the move as smart, saying the rush to put out a new album at the expense of quality was a mistake, and if they were taking the time to improve the product, it was time well spent and the mark of a group obviously more concerned with longevity than cashing in.

Fan reaction was, unsurprisingly, intense: YouTube videos of teenage girls declaring they’d _simply die_ if they had to wait even longer; staunch posts of support on Tumblr for whatever decisions the band made concerning their career; speculation that one or more of the boys was sick, possibly with a terminal illness. This last one picked up so much steam that special appearances had to be scheduled to quell the rumours that the boys were ill. Harry, of course, was unable to appear in person, but he called in to several radio stations to give the fans a chance to hear firsthand that he was fine. Thus the call this morning with Nick. 

As they had discussed, the others had got wings as well, though smaller than Harry’s, and in colours much as they had initially envisioned. Zayn’s were black with bright yellow feathers on the underside, visible when the wings were spread. Niall’s were white, Liam’s a light greyish brown with a subtle pattern, and Louis’ a darker grey as the base, shot through with bright blues and greens and purples. They made an impressive show all lined up together on the stage.

By now, Harry walking around with his wings was a familiar sight to the crew. His well-established back problems had given them the excuse they needed to explain why he never took them off. Once they were on tour, he’d be wearing them for hours on end each day. In order to ensure he’d be able to endure the rigours or performing, he was building up his strength now, preparing for the gruelling tour schedule. 

When asked by one curious intern if he wasn’t getting sick of them, he’d simply responded, “I’ve got quite used to them. They almost feel like a part of me.” The answer seemed to satisfy her, and it was true enough.

The two boys rode in silence once they were buckled in the car, Harry leaning his head against the window and shutting his eyes, hoping he could grab just a few more minutes of sleep. The frequent starting and stopping of the city traffic made it impossible, however, so he gave up and ate his banana instead. When he was finished, he looked over at Louis who was, as usual, scrolling through his phone. 

“Anyone say anything about the interview this morning?”

Louis shot him a look as if he thought Harry was mad. “Only about two point four million people.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What’ve they been saying?”

“They’re saying Grimmy has a crush on you and they’re wondering if the two of you are secretly together.”

“Lou…”

Louis dismissed his protests with a wave of his hand. They’d had _that_ argument before. Several times, in fact. But Harry wasn’t going to stop being friends with Nick just because Louis was jealous. Every time they went out together, Louis’ jaw would clench when he’d see the pap pictures and read the speculation anew, but Harry’d had to cope with Eleanor a lot longer, so he didn’t think Louis was in much of a position to complain. In any case, they hadn’t argued about Nick in quite a while, and he was glad Louis seemed to be letting it go this time.

“They’re saying you sound fine. Not sick at all. I think you’ve managed to convince everyone you’re not dead.”

“That’s good.”

“No, wait.” Louis held up a finger and was quiet for a minute while he scrolled intently. Then he looked up with an exasperated expression. “These people are mad. You’ve got some insisting it was pre-recorded. Or better yet, edited together from old interviews. They’ve even listed out every occasion where you’ve said similar things and have charts showing how the entire interview could have been spliced together from old recordings.”

Harry just shook his head. He supposed he should be used to it by now, but the lengths some fans went to in order to prove their pet theories still surprised him.

“What about the wings?” he asked. “Have they said anything about the wings? I can’t imagine it hasn’t got out yet.”

“Hold on.” After another moment, Louis let out a bark of laughter.

“What?”

Louis held up the screen of his phone so Harry could see what he was looking at. “ _Sugarscape_ is on the job, mate. They’ve photoshopped us all as birds.”

**[Sugarscape: We Dress the Lads Like Birds](http://archiveofourown.org/works/586757) **

Harry took the phone from Louis for a closer look.

“Don’t worry,” Louis said. “Your wings are much more beautiful than that. They’ve got your legs about right, though.”

“Very funny,” Harry answered as he scrolled through the pictures. He laughed when he got to Liam and held it up to show Louis who grinned in return. At the next picture he said, “Of course you’re a peacock, what with that magnificent tail of yours.”

“Oooh, a joke about my bum. You’re such a clever one.” 

“My jokes are completely underappreciated.”

“That’s because they’re usually not very funny.”

“Hey. They are too. They’re just subtle, not—”

“Okay, lads, we’re here,” Paul said, interrupting them. “Got your schedules?”

Louis and Harry stopped talking and began to gather their things, unbuckling their seatbelts. 

“All set, I think,” Louis answered.

“Good. See you inside,” Paul said as they exited the vehicle, heading to another long day of rehearsals.

The show was shaping up to be amazing. Although their first tour was pared down, focusing on the music and the boys themselves, their new one had upped the ante and added elements of spectacle. The priority was still the music, of course, but with a proven ability to sell tickets, they could afford to put on a show the audience wouldn’t soon forget. 

“There you are, good. The other lads are already here.” Harry and Louis were greeted and ushered into rehearsals the minute they walked through the door. “Louis, can you get your wings on? They want to run through the opening and the first few numbers straight off.”

“Sure thing, mate.”

“Harry, this way.”

Harry followed obediently to the scaffolding stairs which led to a platform high above the stage. He climbed up and stood patiently while he was secured to a zip wire. 

“Can you spread your legs a little wider?” one of the technicians asked.

Harry inwardly smiled, thinking Louis would have had some amusing comment to make, but did as he was asked, waiting for the support to be adjusted and fastened around his thighs and hips. Once the carabiners were snapped in place—one to the straps supporting his body and the other to the wire itself—he was asked to grip the bar above his head with his right hand and given a microphone for his left.

“I want you to lean back now. Put your weight on the straps.” He did so and waited while all the equipment was tested. “Okay, you should be good to go. Here’s where the signal’s going to be.” The crewmember pointed to a small light to his right. “When it turns from red to green, you just need to lean back into the seat and step off the platform. The wire will do the rest. You’ll slow down as you reach your mark. As soon as you stop, let go of the bar and just unclip this one—” He pointed to the carabiner at his waist. “And the harness will fall away. We’ll take care of removing it from the stage. You ready to give it a go with the other lads?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They’d practised his entrance many times already, and the crew had done a dry tech run the day before, but this was the first time they’d be rehearsing his entrance as it would appear in the show. They weren’t doing the full tech run today, just to the first costume change. Minus the actual costumes, of course, save the wings; they’d save that for the full dress rehearsal. He was eager to see all the special effects.

Flashing the crew a thumbs up sign, Harry moved to the edge of the platform to watch the show begin. Harry heard the music start, saw the fog filling the air, and then the other four appeared, silhouetted against bright lights, rising from the stage, wings spread. When they were almost through the verse of their opening song, Harry saw the light turn green signalling his cue. He took a deep breath, feeling that momentary surge of adrenaline as he stepped off the platform into open space, then the rush of air against his open wings as he sped to the front of the stage, landing in between the other boys.

He stopped moving just a beat or two before the chorus and had just enough time to unhook the carabiner, freeing himself from the harness, picking up the chorus right on cue.

-o-

All five of the boys huddled around the monitor playing back the opening and their first few numbers from the tech run earlier in the day. All in all, things had gone off with only a few glitches. Excited voices filled the air as they watched themselves appear out of the fog then saw Harry flying down over the stage, wings spread.

“That is sick! Just sick!” Niall exclaimed. “Look at you, Harry. You’re really something. Just sick.”

The others agreed. 

Harry, for almost the first time since he had grown the wings, felt a burst of pride. They really did look incredible, especially with the lights setting them off behind him. And for a few seconds he had almost felt like he was really flying. Maybe they were actually going to pull this off. 

He looked at Louis whose expression reflected that same sense of pride Harry was feeling and couldn’t stop the grin from taking over his face. Louis gave him an answering one in return, along with a nod of his head, as if reading his thoughts. They were really going to do this.

One last nagging worry he’d been carrying around with him had to be addressed, though, before he could let himself be truly happy.

“You don’t think…” he began, a crease appearing in his brow.

“What love?”

“Well, don’t you think it puts too much of the focus on me? We’re all equals, yeah? But this makes it look like I’m the lead singer or something, instead of just one of five. I don’t want anyone to think my head’s getting too big. You know?”

“Mate…” Zayn spoke up. “We all talked about this. It makes the most sense for now. And let’s face it. Most of the world already thinks you’re a rock star. None of us mind if you’re front and centre. It don’t really matter to us what the rest of the world thinks.”

The others were nodding their heads in agreement.

Liam chimed in. “They don’t know what goes on between the five of us. As long as we understand and we know that we’re all in this together, it doesn’t matter how things look on the outside. Let them think what they want. We know the truth.”

“And believe us,” said Niall. “If your head starts to get too big, we’ll let you know.”

“Absolutely,” said Louis. 

“I’ve no doubt about that,” Harry said with a small roll of his eyes and a laugh. His concern safely dealt with, he allowed himself to begin to feel the excitement.

“So we’re going to do this,” he said, almost to himself, happiness blooming in his chest.

He felt arms wrapping around him, pulling him into a hug, all five of them so close you almost couldn’t tell where one left off and the others began.

“Hell yeah we’re going to do this,” Louis said in reply.

-o-

Chapter 5 coming soon (which is obviously a relative term!) 


	5. Chapter 5

The rumours started in Chicago. In hindsight, they were probably inevitable, especially with fans who analysed every bit of news and every piece of concert footage with a thoroughness and attention to detail that rivalled the Secret Service, but no one was prepared for how fast they grew.

Harry stood on the platform looking out at the crowd. The tour had been an incredible success so far; their new album was #1 in thirty-four countries. Already, they’d added even more dates in larger cities. The pace was exhausting and their families and friends worried constantly about their health and how hard they were being pushed, but as Harry listened to the roar of the audience, the high-pitched screams, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Performing was what he was born to do. 

As he surveyed the crowd, he took note of how many were wearing wings—almost half of the people in attendance, if he had to wager a guess. At first it had been just a few fans, showing up in homemade creations, or wearing ones from Halloween fairy costumes, or Disney Tinkerbell wings. But when their marketing team saw more and more girls similarly outfitted at each subsequent event, they had kicked into gear, producing a line of “Official 1D Wings” made of nylon stretched around lightweight wire frames. All five of the boys’ wings were available, plus they had even held a contest for fans to design their own. Contest participants were asked to include a short essay on what their entries represented, and the winners, in a variety of vibrant colours and designs, were put into production and offered for sale. They made an incredible sight, especially when the lights from the show illuminated the audience, as if the arena was full of colourful butterflies.

The energy in the air was palpable and Harry felt confident; this was going to be a performance to remember. The tech finished buckling him into the harness and gave Harry a nod, patting him on the shoulder. Lifting a hand, Harry gave him the thumbs up sign that he was ready. When the lights dimmed and the smoke began to rise, Harry stepped to the edge, reaching up to hold the bar above his head, waiting for his cue. The green light flashed and Harry stepped off the platform, anticipating the swoop in his stomach and the heady rush of air.

Almost immediately, he was aware something was wrong. The give on the cable was off; his descent was too fast, uncontrolled. Before Harry could even register what was happening, a loud crack echoed in the arena, as if from a gunshot, and the cable snapped, whipping through the air like a striking snake. Harry let out a cry as the errant cable sliced across his calf and he tumbled through the air. Everything happened so fast, he didn’t have time to think. Instinctively, he spread his wings, slowing his descent and he landed on the stage, rolling to the ground, grabbing his leg in pain.

The arena was in chaos—girls screaming, the lights coming on as the crew and the other lads rushed to Harry. Louis was the first to reach him.

“Harry, shit. Harry, are you all right?”

Harry looked up to see Louis, eyes wide and scared, inches from his face. “Fuck, yeah. I think so. My leg… hurts.”

“Let me see—”

Paul interrupted him, physically moving Louis out of the way, though with gentle hands. “Lou, give us some room, yeah?” 

Louis reluctantly stepped back, not taking his eyes off Harry, hands gripped together tightly.

Paul motioned for Liam. “Get out there and let everyone know Harry’s going to be fine. Buy us a little time, will you? Tell ‘em the secondary safety cable did its job and kept him from harm, but we need to check him over before we can start the show.”

“Got it, boss,” Liam said with a determined nod of his head. “Niall, grab your guitar, come with me,” he directed. “Zayn, you stay with Lou. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Harry, through his haze of pain, was impressed with everyone’s quick thinking and gave a little laugh at Liam’s last words.

“Good luck with that, mate,” he got out through tight lips to Zayn, who laughed in response.

At their joking banter, Louis’ stance relaxed the slightest bit, as if he was starting to let himself believe Harry was actually okay. “Very funny, Haz,” he said in a shaky voice.

Harry smiled at him, trying to be reassuring. He could hear Liam addressing the crowd as Paul knelt by his side, checking his leg.

“All right, everyone, calm down. Harry’s fine. We’ve got such a great crew taking care of us they make sure every safety measure is in place. What happened was the main cable holding Harry snapped—that was the loud sound you heard—but there’s a smaller, almost invisible secondary wire that acts as a back-up for the main one, and it worked just like it was supposed to.”

The buzz of the crowd picked up a bit at Liam’s words and Harry could hear that a lot of the girls were crying.

“That was a little scary, wasn’t it?” Liam asked. “I don’t know about you, but I was scared. Wasn’t sure what was happening at first, but everything’s fine.”

Niall jumped in. “He’s absolutely right. No need for tears, I promise. Our lad Harry will be right as rain.” 

“That’s right,” Liam continued. “They’re just going to give him a once over, check out the equipment and find out what went wrong, so they can make sure something like this doesn’t happen again. Then we can get back to the show. Would you like that?”

A half-hearted smattering of applause was the answer.

“Oh, is that the best you can do? Dry your eyes and let’s try that again. Would you like to get back to the show?”

This time the applause was louder and there was a cheer of “Yes!” from the audience.

“Much better. Niall?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“How about we have a little sing-along while we’re waiting for everything to get settled? You think you can play us a little something?”

“Absolutely! How about _Little Things_? Has anyone heard of that one?”

Harry heard laughter as Niall started to play.

Once the audience joined in the song, Harry felt Paul’s hands under his knees. Someone else was sliding their hands under his armpits. Paul spoke up: “We need to cut these trousers off you to check out that leg. Don’t think we need an audience for that.”

“Don’t know,” Zayn said, as Harry was hoisted in the air. “Harry probably wouldn’t mind.”

“Louis might,” Harry said with a grin, trying to get Louis to smile. He still looked as if he was going to go off the rails any second.

When they were safely backstage, Lou Teasdale hustled over to them, scissors in hand.

“Do you want me to do it?” she asked.

“Better let me,” Paul said, holding out his hand. They were interrupted by one of the stand-by medical team who had just arrived.

“We can do that, Sir,” he said, holding out his hands for the shears.

Paul handed them over and they all hovered around anxiously while the medic snipped up the side of Harry’s trousers. Harry sucked in his breath as the metal pressed against his skin. When the fabric was pulled away, a long red welt was revealed. The medic pressed his fingers along his leg and Harry cried out. 

His eyes darted to Louis who looked as if he was going to pass out. Zayn was holding his arm and motioning to Lou. “Do you think you could get Louis a cup of tea?” he asked her. She nodded her head and hurried off. “Why don’t you take a seat, yeah?” Zayn was asking Louis, who shook his head no, jaw set. Zayn caught the eye of one of the crew who took in the situation and rushed off to find a chair for Louis.

Worrying about Louis momentarily kept Harry’s mind off his leg, but at another prod, he cried out again. That _hurt_.

After a good fifteen minutes of poking and prodding, taking Harry’s pulse, checking his vitals, the medic spoke up again. “It didn’t break the skin, luckily, and the bone appears to be intact. Looks like you’re just going to have a very very nasty bruise,” he said. “I want you to get it checked out at hospital later, but if you want to test it out, see if you can bear weight, I’ll give the clear to perform and I can give a localised shot for the pain. Might take a few to kick in, though.”

Paul immediately looked relieved, but he said, “Up to you, Harry. No one’s going to make you go out there if you’re not up for it.”

“I think you should be more worried about Lou there,” Harry said, gritting his teeth as he attempted to get to his feet.

Louis scowled, hands wrapped around his tea as he watched Harry intently.

Harry winked at him.

Once he was on his feet, Paul and the medic holding him steady, Harry tested out his leg, slowly putting weight on it. It hurt, a dull throbbing ache, but it was bearable. He gingerly took a step, then another. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I can do this. Won’t be jumping around, and might want to bring that chair along.” He nodded over to where Louis was sitting. “But I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” Paul asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. The show must go on!” He lifted his hand in a weak fist pump.

Louis rolled his eyes. Harry smiled, knowing Louis would be okay too.

Once Harry was given the go-ahead by the medic and changed into some loose sweats instead of his usual tight jeans, the three of them made their way to the stage opening.

“You go on ahead,” Louis said to Zayn. “Let them know we’re on our way out.”

Zayn nodded and went to join Niall and Liam, who were just wrapping up another song. A hush fell over the crowd as Zayn whispered in Liam’s ear and Liam nodded his head, a huge smile breaking over his face.

Liam addressed the crowd. “Zayn, you want to tell everyone what you just told me?” he asked, handing Zayn the microphone.

Harry watched with Louis from backstage while Zayn took the mic, looking uncomfortable. They knew he preferred to let the others do the speaking, but he stepped up, probably knowing the audience would appreciate his first-hand report. “Sure, mate,” Zayn said. “I’ve just been in the back with Harry and Lou and the crew. Harry’s leg got clipped by the cable as it was flying around, but he’s been given the all clear by the medics and is on his way out. Will be here in just a few.”

A loud cheer went up.

Louis turned toward Harry at the sound, a proud smile on his face. “They love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Harry whispered back. Louis rolled his eyes again and Harry pinched his side, causing him to flinch and smile.

Zayn continued. “His leg’s a little sore, so he might be limping a bit and won’t be jumping around and such, but I don’t think any of us mind about that, do we?”

The crowd cheered again.

Liam took the microphone back. “That’s fantastic news, isn’t it? Thanks, Zayn.”

As Liam chattered on, filling the time until Harry and Louis made their way out, Louis turned to Harry.

“Scared me to death, Haz,” he said.

“Scared me too. But I’m all right. I promise.” He stared into Louis’ eyes, trying to convey his seriousness. “Okay?”

Louis searched his face, eyes flickering over his features, coming to rest on his lips. Harry’s quirked into a smile when he saw Louis unconsciously lick his own lips. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and Louis’s gaze travelled back to Harry’s eyes. 

“Yeah, okay. You ready to do this?” he asked, squeezing Harry’s hand.

Harry squeezed back. “Yeah. You feeling okay? You’re still a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Just got shook up a bit when I saw you lying there.”

“I swear I’m okay. Love you, Lou.”

“Love you too.”

“Then let’s do this.”

Louis lifted their joined hands and draped Harry’s arm over his shoulder, supporting him while they walked slowly out to greet the crowd, the cheers overwhelmingly loud as people caught sight of them emerging onto the stage. Then the music swelled and they broke into song, giving the audience a show worth watching.

-o-

“You taken a look at any of these yet?” Louis asked later that night when they were back at the hotel. He was reclining on the bed, laptop propped on his knees. Harry was just stepping out of the bathroom after a shower, having only recently got back from hospital where he was whisked after the show. Louis hadn’t been allowed to go with him. At least he seemed to be over his sulk about that.

“Any of what?” Harry asked, walking over to look as he rubbed a towel through his hair. “Is that Tumblr?”

“Yeah.”

“Pics from the show?”

“Video.”

Harry sat down on the bed and slid over next to Louis, turning slightly to the side to give his wings room, but still managing to press shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

Louis pressed play and the music started up.

“Can you make that bigger?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Louis said, clicking on the video so that it opened up the youtube page in a new tab. He pressed play again and maximized the screen. 

“Whoa,” Harry said when his face came into focus, high on the platform above the stage.

Louis nodded in agreement. The quality of the video was much better than they were used to seeing the fans post. Someone must have brought a very expensive video camera to the show.

Harry flinched when the cable snapped. “Was it really that loud?” 

“Yes.” Louis’ face was tight as he stared at the screen.

Then he watched as his wings spread and he glided to the stage, the grace of his descent a sharp juxtaposition to the way he collapsed on the landing.

Harry reached over and tugged at his wrist, pulling it away from the laptop. He wound their fingers together and squeezed. “How many times have you watched this?” he asked.

“A few.”

“Mmm.”

They were all huddled around Harry now, shielding him from the audience and the filming continued until Liam finished speaking and Niall began to play.

“Looked like I was actually flying for a few there,” Harry said into the silence.

Louis turned to look at him, a curious expression on his face, as if he wasn’t sure if Harry was joking or not.

“That’s because you _were_ flying, Haz.”

“Shit. Play it again.”

Louis restarted the video and paused the screen when Harry was mid-air, wings spread. After staring at it for a moment, they played it through to the landing. Then Louis restarted it for a third time.

“Are all the videos like that?” Harry asked.

“No, the rest are the usual shite quality, with the usual screaming and bouncing around. This is the only one I’ve found that’s clear.”

“Everyone else seen it?”

“Texted the link to Paul right away.”

“He said anything yet?”

“No, but I think we can expect an emergency meeting any minute now.”

Harry felt an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. He looked over at Louis whose expression didn’t help assuage the nervousness he was experiencing.

“Can you minimise it again?” Harry asked. “I want to read the comments.”

Louis did. The first comment visible caused Harry to suck in his breath.

_Plot twist: Harry’s wings are real._

-o-

Harry stood on the rooftop of their hotel in Las Vegas, staring down at the pavements below, the lights from the Strip visible in the distance. They were staying in the downtown area instead of one of the more popular, well-known hotels, hoping to avoid the huge crowd of fans that seemed to find them no matter where they were. The rumour going around Twitter was they were booked at the Bellagio; for once they seemed to have eluded the usual rush of fans. It wouldn’t last, they knew, but it was nice for a change to get to their rooms without having to stop for autographs and pose for pictures.

Their team had made arrangements in advance to reserve not only the entirety of one of the floors, but also private access to the modest rooftop pool after hours, and the five of them had come up earlier for a swim after the show. After a few drinks, their swim shorts had come off one by one until they were all skinny dipping, dunking each other in the water, letting off some steam after a stressful few weeks. He and Louis had tumbled into bed afterwards, laughter on their lips.

Harry had left Louis curled up on the bed, fast asleep, worn out after being fucked into the mattress. Gently pushing the fringe off Louis’ forehead, he’d leaned over and dropped a soft kiss on his cheek, careful not to wake him. Harry knew how worried Louis had been about the escalating situation; he needed the rest. Not that he didn’t too. Harry was completely exhausted, but he’d been having trouble sleeping, the strain from hiding the truth taking its toll. 

After the incident in Chicago, the fans had taken the suggestion that Harry’s wings were real and ran with it. Blogs had sprung up overnight with detailed analyses of their every interaction since the tour had started—every public appearance, every interview, every fan pic. If they thought they had been under scrutiny before, it was nothing compared to the intensity now. The Tumblr blog, _ReasonsWhyHarrysWingsAreReal_ , which listed all Harry sightings in detail, chronicling the “evidence” that Harry hadn’t been seen without his wings since tour began, reportedly had over 30,000 followers.

The meeting they’d expected after first watching the video had occurred early the next morning. Their management—at least those in-the-know—had been adamant about the only possible response: deny, deny, deny. They’d even taken over Louis’ twitter and engaged in several public exchanges with fans, mocking their conspiracy theories and labelling them clearly delusional. The story of the back-up wire was repeated to every news outlet they could reach. The hardcore “believers” didn’t buy it, but to the general public it was a convincing sell; after all, the alternative was unbelievable.

It was all too reminiscent of their tactics involving his and Louis’ relationship. Obviously, the fans weren’t delusional, but what could they do? Harry could never admit the truth about what a freak he’d become.

The wind ruffled Harry’s hair; he could hear the honk of a taxi horn far below. He shivered even though the night was warm. Everything was so complicated. He was tired. Scared. Worried. Not only for the future of the band—how long could they continue their deception?—but for himself. What would he do once they were forced to stop performing? Would he have to hide away from the world forever? 

He was worried about Louis. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him laugh as he’d done earlier in the pool, head thrown back, his whole body radiating happiness. It’d been far too long. Louis’ phone was constantly at his ear while he consulted with their team, forehead creased, mouth turned down. Every day posed new challenges, every new location, tricky obstacles to navigate. Louis had always taken the lead for the band, coordinating schedules, taking on the brunt of the detail. He was working even harder now that they had another secret to protect. Harry felt responsible. He knew better than to say that out loud, knew Louis would get upset if he found out Harry was blaming himself, but he couldn’t help it; he missed seeing Louis smile.

He’d promised to at least try to stop thinking that way, however. It’d be a long time before he’d forget the expression he’d seen on Louis’ face—the one when they’d been lying together on the bed after a show, flipping through the channels.

“There. Stop there. That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“X-Men. _The Last Stand_ , I think.”

“Yeah, all right. Haven’t seen it in a while.”

They lay quietly, Louis with his back against the headboard, Harry on his side, wings behind him, head resting on Louis’ chest, arm around his waist, body curled around him. Louis was idly running his fingers through Harry’s hair, making Harry hum with pleasure, both of them only half paying attention. That is, until the scene where a young teenaged Angel tries to hack off his own wings with a knife.

Harry immediately went still, unable to look away, understanding the self-hatred the boy was feeling, absently wondering how much it’d hurt.

Then he’d felt Louis’ hands trembling against his scalp, a swoop of confusion and shame—for what he was, for the sharp pang of longing to rid himself of these monstrous appendages.

Recovering from his momentary shock, Louis sprang into action, spilling Harry from his resting place, biting out, “Where’s the fucking remote?” searching frantically on the mattress. He located it half under the pillows and swung around to aim it at the telly, turning it off with a click.

The silence was heavy as a stone between them, a suffocating weight. Harry couldn’t breathe. Louis was staring at him with a look on his face Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. He’d never seen Louis so upset, not even when the wings first appeared, or when he’d fallen from the sky after the cable snapped in Chicago. This look was something entirely different.

“Promise me—” Louis’ voice cracked. He couldn’t continue speaking.

“Lou…” Harry began, then stopped. He didn’t know what to say. 

Louis tossed the remote on the bed and surged toward Harry, taking his face between his hands and kissing him deeply. Harry responded immediately, hands coming up to pull Louis closer, mouth opening with a moan. After a few moments, Louis pulled back and rested his forehead against Harry’s. His hands stoked the sides of Harry’s neck and across his shoulders, down his arms and back again.

“I wouldn’t actually ever try and hack off my wings. You know that, right?” Harry asked.

Louis huffed out a little laugh and gave a small shake of his head, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he were in pain. “It’s not that, Haz.”

“Well, what then?”

Tilting his head away, Louis slid his hands down Harry’s arms again, and took his hands in his own. 

“I could see what you were thinking.”

“Oh.” The sound left Harry’s mouth as the air was sucked out of his chest. That twist of shame rose again. The skin on his cheeks was burning.

“But you’re wrong,” Louis said. “You’re beautiful, Harry. Every bit of you. I’ve told you before, and I hoped you’d begun to believe it.”

“I still feel like a freak.” The words came out in a whisper.

“You’re amazing,” Louis said. He let go of one of Harry’s hands and reached to stroke the curve of his wing. Harry’s eyes drifted closed and his entire body shuddered in response. “And when you react to my touch like that, I’m… I’m left in awe. They’re beautiful, because they’re yours. They’re a part of you. And everything about you is beautiful, because it’s you.”

Harry opened his eyes. “You’re not going to start singing _Little Things_ to me, are you?”

A small burst of laughter escaped Louis’ lips and Harry smiled.

“Can if you like.”

Harry shrugged. “You know how much I love your voice.” 

Louis gave Harry a sweet smile and leaned in again, resting their foreheads back together. “You’re perfect to me,” he crooned softly. “I’m in love with you, and all your little things.”

They stood smiling stupidly at each other for a long moment. Then Louis tried again, “Promise me…”

“I promise I won’t hack my wings off with a knife.” Harry smirked.

“Shut it, fool. Promise me you’ll at least _try_ to see yourself the way I see you. Amazing. Beautiful. Worth every bit of it.”

Harry’s expression sobered. “Don’t know if I can,” he answered honestly.

“Well then, if you can’t believe it about yourself yet, promise you’ll at least try to believe that _I_ believe it. Can you do that?”

Harry stared into Louis’ eyes, so clear and bright. His stomach fluttered and he felt an almost overwhelming rush of love for his beautiful blue-eyed boy.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he whispered.

It was still hard sometimes, Harry thought, as he stood staring out into the night sky. When he was with Louis, Louis’ hands touching him, his face buried in his feathers, it was easy to believe, the feeling was so incredible. But when they were out in the world, hiding the truth, the strain took a heavy toll. It was hard not to feel ashamed, like he didn’t belong. Wings were traditionally a symbol of freedom, but he felt caged, trapped. What would it be like, he wondered, if he could be himself, completely, for just one day? If he could spread his wings, walk hand in hand with Louis, kiss him in front of everyone and let the world know how deeply they were in love. What would it feel like to break open the cage and fly?

A dangerous idea struck him, one he’d had before, but had pushed aside, never following through on the thought. His hands gripped the railing of the rooftop and he looked over the edge, trying to judge how high they were. Seventeen stories? Eighteen? Harry couldn’t remember. But he was much, much higher than the platform above the stage, and when the cable had snapped, for the briefest of moments he had been flying. What good were wings if your feet stayed forever on the ground?

Pulling one of the poolside chairs over next to the barrier, Harry stepped onto the seat, heart beating wildly. Then he hoisted himself onto the wall surrounding the pool and stood, wings slowly unfolding. Was he really going to do this? The risks were enormous. If his wings didn’t work the way he thought they would, he’d end up dead on the pavement below. And even if they did, he might be seen. But he was tired of living in fear, tired of feeling ashamed. Louis loved his wings; tonight he was going to try to love them too. 

Acting on impulse, before he could freak himself out about what he planned to do, knowing he’d chicken out if he thought things through, Harry took a deep breath and stepped off the edge. Adrenaline surged through his body as he began to fall and his mind screamed, _Oh shit_. Instinctively, as had happened when the cable snapped, his wings spread, catching the air, and he began to soar. The wind against his feathers felt like a caress, not the way Louis’ touch felt, but pleasure shot through him just the same. This was what they were meant for; he’d been given wings to fly. A peal of joyous laughter burst from his chest and he wanted pump his fists, whoop with excitement. Knowing he couldn’t attract attention, he held back, but inside he was yelling with happiness. 

Eager to test out his abilities, Harry started flapping his wings, gaining altitude from the thrust, flying higher and higher. Up he went, and up farther still, revelling in the strength of his muscles, the majestic sweep of his wings. Everything looked different from this perspective; the air smelled crisp and clean; the stars shone brightly above; and his problems receded, like the landmarks below, growing smaller and smaller. The joy of flight eclipsed all the worries of life on the ground. Feeling a shift in the air, Harry turned into the current and stilled the beating of his wings, keeping them extended. He glided along, concentrating on the sensation of the wind flowing both over and under him, ruffling his hair, whooshing in his ears. The earth below was far in the distance, and even though he’d always been somewhat afraid of heights, he felt no fear. 

He practised turning, speeding up and slowing down, shifting his wings to test their manoeuvrability. Every moment was amazing and he didn’t want to stop, but he didn’t want to tire himself out on his first flight, not yet knowing the extent of his abilities. He felt invincible, however. Powerful and strong. 

Harry glided again in large circles, slowly losing altitude, eyes trained below searching out a familiar landmark. He wondered for a moment if he’d be able to recognize their hotel, but the worry was groundless; the rooftop pool was unmistakable when it came into sight. He pulled up as he sailed over the wall and his feet reached for the ground. He tumbled forward, coming down hard on one knee and tumbled head over heels as he came to an awkward stop. That’d leave a bruise or two, he thought to himself, but he was too giddy from the success of his flight to care and laughter bubbled forth from his mouth.

Dusting himself off, he climbed to his feet. The laughter abruptly transformed into a startled squawk when Louis stepped from the shadows.

“Christ. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Scared the shit out of _you_? Are you fucking kidding me? Scared the shit out of _you _?”__

__Louis eyes blazed with anger, and… something else. His hands were clenched in fists. Every line in his body was rigid._ _

__Harry took a step toward him, hand extended, but Louis took a step back._ _

__“Lou—”_ _

__“No.” Louis cut him off. “Shut up. Do you have any fucking idea how it felt to wake up alone and come looking for you, only to find you standing on the fucking ledge of the building? And then you—” His voice broke and he couldn’t continue._ _

__Then Harry knew what the something else lurking in Louis’ eyes was: fear. Guilt twisted in his stomach. He moved toward Louis again and didn’t let him get away this time, wrapping his trembling form in his arms. “Shhh,” he whispered against his hair. “I’m sorry. I’d no idea you were out here. Didn’t mean to scare you, babe. I’m sorry.”_ _

__Louis let himself be held for a few moments, collecting himself in the comfort of Harry’s arms, but he obviously wasn’t through. “What the fuck were you even thinking, Haz?” he asked, pulling back to look into Harry’s eyes. “What if they hadn’t worked? What if—” Harry could hear the words choking off in his throat again._ _

__“But they did work,” he said, hands rubbing Louis’ back in soothing motions, trying to calm him down. “They did. And it was _amazing_ ,” he added, his exuberant mood not wholly dampened by Louis’ reaction._ _

__“But what if—”_ _

__This time Harry cut him off. “No. Stop. Nothing happened. I’m fine. Lou, it was _amazing_.” He tried to convey the wonder he’d felt, the joy._ _

__He wanted to share the way it’d felt with Louis, wanted him to know how free he’d felt. The only thing that came even close was the way he felt when they were together. When Louis opened his mouth to speak again, Harry leaned down and stopped the words with a kiss, crushing their lips together._ _

__Louis immediately moaned, body going pliant, leaning into Harry. His hands reached for Harry’s waist and clung, fingers digging in. Harry licked into his mouth, deepening the kiss, shivering as Louis’ tongue slid against his own. Little sounds were coming from Louis’ throat, desperate and greedy. They went right to Harry’s cock._ _

__Louis was obviously having a similar reaction; he ground his hips up against Harry, his growing erection rubbing against Harry’s thigh. Louis’ arms moved up around Harry’s neck and he pulled him down, attempting to get closer, as if he was trying to crawl inside his skin. Harry immediately responded to his efforts, sliding his hands around to Louis’ arse, splaying his fingers over his gorgeous bum and pulling him close, hitching him up so that their groins were pressed together._ _

__Another moan escaped from Louis’ mouth and he tugged at Harry’s curls, tilting his face up and shifting onto his tiptoes so he could reach Harry’s ear. “Was so fucking scared. Don’t ever want to lose you,” he said, voice breathless and ragged. “Love you so much. So fucking much.”_ _

__Harry answered with another kiss, turning his head to bite down on Louis’ jaw, mouthing down to his chin, then taking Louis’ lip gently between his teeth. He used his hands to pull Louis even closer, grinding against him by moving his hips in sensuous circular motions. Louis’ breath hitched and his hips jerked in response, his cock fully hard now._ _

__Louis’ hands were near Harry’s waist now, pulling at the elastic of his shorts. “Get these off, yeah?” he said, slipping his fingers inside to grip along Harry’s length. Harry sucked in a breath, feeling the stroke of Louis’ hand deep inside his bones. It was as if his flight had made his nerve endings come alive, magnifying every sensation tenfold._ _

__“Yeah,” he gasped, letting go of Louis’ arse long enough to tug at his shorts with one hand and the hem of Louis’ shirt with the other. “You too,” he commanded._ _

__Louis complied, lifting his tee over his head and slipping his shorts down his legs, erection bouncing free. Harry didn’t take his eyes off him, raking his gaze over Louis golden skin, his firm thighs, all his gorgeous curves. Kicking his shorts away with his foot, Harry stalked toward Louis who had taken a few steps backward toward one of the chaise longues._ _

__Harry had to open his mouth to get enough oxygen to his lungs, finding it difficult to breathe as he watched Louis kneel on the thick cushion and crawl up the chaise, his perfect arse giving Harry a view that set his heart rate skyrocketing. Then Louis turned onto his back, propping himself up his elbows, opening his legs to drape them over the sides. Practically lunging, Harry knelt between Louis’ open legs, laying his body on top of Louis’ lining up their cocks as he kissed him again._ _

__“You feel so good,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ lips, mind spinning as their cocks slid against each other. He used one arm to prop himself up on the cushion, wrapping the other around Louis’ back and pulling him closer so their chests were also touching. His wings slowly unfolded, spreading to create a blanket of privacy, as if they were the only two people in the entire world._ _

__Louis reached to wrap an arm around Harry’s neck, pulling him down on top of him, thrusting his hips up, moaning and panting against Harry’s mouth. “Want you to fuck me,” he gasped. “Want you inside me.”_ _

__Harry shuddered at his words, rocking down against Louis with a growl. Overcome momentarily, he latched onto Louis’ neck with his lips, sucking a mark into his skin as they frotted against one another. He wasn’t sure he could pull himself away long enough to get back to the room._ _

__“Don’t have anything here. We’d have to go back down,” he said against Louis’s skin._ _

__Louis’ hands were on his backside, squeezing as he pushed Harry’s arse down against him. His legs wrapped around Harry’s calves. Harry groaned as Louis thrust upwards, the slide of their cocks unbearably delicious._ _

__“Don’t need it,” Louis panted. “I’m still… from before.”_ _

__Another moan tore out of Harry’s mouth as he thought about Louis’ hole still slick from earlier. Was his come still inside? He bucked down uncontrollably, his skin on fire._ _

__Harry lay Louis back down and reached between them, sliding his hand on the inside of his thigh, reaching back behind his balls. He pressed the tip of his finger into Louis, finding his hole just as Louis had said, still a little stretched and slick from his come._ _

__“That’s so fucking hot,” he said, trying to clear his head and use a little restraint. The urge to ram his dick into Louis was taking hold. “You sure?” he asked. “Don’t want to hurt you.”_ _

__“Yeah, I’m sure,” Louis said, shifting his hips down on Harry’s finger, trying to push it further inside. “Need you, Haz.” He panted against Harry’s neck. “Need you.”_ _

__“Yeah, okay,” Harry responded. “Need you too.”_ _

__He reached for his dick and moved the tip to Louis’ entrance, lining himself up, starting to press in slowly. There was too much resistance; he wasn’t going in easily. Harry pulled back and gave a little laugh at the high pitched whine of disappointment coming from Louis._ _

__“’S not gonna work. Not enough lube.”_ _

__“I’m fine; I told you. Do it.”_ _

__“Lou,” Harry admonished._ _

__“Christ, you’re too conscientious for your own good sometimes.” Louis’ frustration was clear. “Come here,” Louis directed. “Stick your prick in my mouth. I’ll lube you up.”_ _

__Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his knees as Louis propped himself back on his elbows, guiding his cock into Louis’ mouth._ _

__Louis licked across the head and Harry shivered. When Louis opened wide, tilting his head forward to take Harry in, Harry’s eyes drifted closed and he moaned. God, Louis’ mouth felt fantastic—so hot and so wet. There was no finesse to Louis’ actions, none of the usual skill, and he really knew how to suck cock. Instead, his actions were wet and messy, Louis doing his best to cover Harry’s prick with as much spit as he could._ _

__“Try again,” Louis bossed, after pulling off Harry’s dick._ _

__Before complying, Harry spit on his own fingers and reached back between Louis’ legs, rubbing his saliva around Louis’ hole. Then he lined back up and pushed. This time he slid in more easily, though there was still more friction than he was used to. He could feel the slide deep inside, though, and knew it was his own come easing the way. The thought was almost too much for him, and he stilled when he was all the way in, leaning over to bury his face in Louis’ neck, trying to regain his composure before he got carried away and started pounding into Louis hard and fast._ _

__“Feels so fucking good, Lou. You’ve no idea.”_ _

__“Think I’ve got some idea,” Louis said, and he sounded just as overwhelmed as Harry. Then Louis’ hands were on Harry’s face, tilting it up so he could reach his lips. Their kissing was almost as messy as the cock sucking had been, both of them mostly breathing into the other’s mouth, teeth clanking together, tongues darting impatiently. Harry had started to move and the slide of his cock in and out captured the majority of their attention._ _

__“Yeah, like that,” Louis whispered. “Just like that.”_ _

__Although he was buried to the hilt in Louis’ tight heat, Harry wanted him even closer. He gripped Louis’ thighs, wrapping them around his hips, then he leaned back onto his knees, pulling them both into a sitting position. He leaned backwards to free his legs, moving them to straddle the chaise, then sat up again, keeping Louis in place throughout his manoeuvres. Louis’ arms snaked around Harry’s neck while Harry’s moved his hands under Louis’ arse, holding him as his long legs used the ground as leverage to push up into Louis._ _

__Small keening cries escaped Louis’ mouth with each thrust. His cock was hard between their stomachs, spreading wetness as pre-come leaked from the tip. Harry was so focused on their connection, his cock buried deep inside Louis’s heat, he wasn’t prepared for Louis reaching behind Harry to grab onto the arch of his wings as he ground down against his cock._ _

__This time the cry was ripped from Harry’s mouth, his entire body responding to the touch. His wings had the most dramatic reaction, spreading open then flapping as if in memory of his recent flight._ _

__A crazy idea took root, and Harry tried to ignore it, concentrating on their movements together, but his wings seemed to almost act on their own, as if they were trying to take flight. Finally, Harry couldn’t disregard the impulse any longer._ _

__“Do you trust me?” he asked, pulling back to look into Louis’ eyes. They were dark with desire, piercing and intense._ _

__“Always,” Louis answered simply._ _

__Harry stared, searching his face then nodded, coming to a decision. Keeping his hands under Louis’ arse, he got to his feet, straining as he carried Louis to the wall. Louis’ arms were tight around his neck, his ankles crossed behind Harry’s waist. Harry had to let go with one hand to help pull them first onto the chair he used earlier, then onto the ledge._ _

__When he was standing overlooking the city, he asked the question with his eyes again. Louis answered without Harry even needing to speak. He looked scared, a little overwhelmed, but determined. “I trust you,” he whispered._ _

__Maybe he was insane; maybe he was about to kill them both, but deep in his gut Harry knew this would work. His wings were open, poised for flight, as if they were eager for his next move. Kissing Louis once hard on the lips, Harry took a deep breath and warned, “Hold on,” before stepping off the ledge._ _

__For one terrifying moment, he thought he had made a horrific mistake as their combined weight dropped them faster and farther than he expected. But then his wings surged into action, pumping with full strength, pulling them out of their fall and up into the air._ _

__His cock was still inside Louis; the wind was rushing past his wings, and when Harry looked into Louis’ face, he didn’t think anything could ever feel as perfect as this moment. Louis stared at him in wonder, eyes wide, pupils still large. With each huge flap of his wings they climbed higher and higher. And with each stroke, as his body surged upward, Louis’ weight bore down, pushing him more firmly onto Harry’s cock buried deeply inside his body. Harry had never felt more connected to his beautiful Louis, had never felt more alive._ _

__Louis was rapidly losing control, his body shuddering against Harry, those incoherent sounds now leaving his mouth that always let Harry know he was about to come. Harry’s hands squeezed tighter on Louis’ arse and he beat his wings harder and faster, driving his dick as deeply as he could as they soared through the sky. Then Louis was crying out, hot come spurting between them, slicking their skin. His arms tightened around Harry’s neck, and he buried his face against his chest, little cries still leaving him as Harry continued to fly, his hard cock still pumping into Louis’ sensitive body._ _

__When Louis was finally able to speak, he lifted his head back up, face flushed and expression completely stunned and filled with marvel, the first words out of his mouth were, “Love you so much, Haz.”_ _

__Overcome with emotion, at the unreality of where they were, what they were doing, flying through the air and connected like this, Harry felt his wings miss a beat. When Louis repeated his words, “Love you, love you, love you,” Harry felt them curl in his stomach, travel up and down his spine, until he was exploding into a million pieces, breaking apart into space. He cried out as he came inside Louis, cock spilling its seed. His wings seized and they tumbled through the sky, free-falling, down, down and even farther down._ _

__Louis continued his litany, murmuring words of love against Harry’s skin, clinging tightly with his arms and legs, how he was amazing, incredible, the best thing that ever happened to him, how much he’d always loved him and how he always would love him, forever if he’d let him. The words acted as a tether, pulling Harry back into time; he slowly emerged from his orgasmic haze, becoming aware of how quickly the earth was approaching._ _

__Spreading his wings, he slowed their fall and then they were gliding, cool breeze against their sweaty skin. He circled around until he spied the hotel rooftop and then slowed their descent even more. Overwhelmed by his release, he knew he’d never be able to finesse their landing, still connected as they were. Instead, he aimed for the pool and they dropped into the water, spraying up a huge splash as they broke through the surface. They both plunged to the bottom of the pool, breaking apart, then came up spluttering and flailing, pushing the hair back from their faces._ _

__“Think I still need to do a little work on the landing,” Harry said, smiling hugely when Louis broke out into a peal of laughter, the sound echoing the joy he felt in his heart._ _

__“You think?” Louis quipped before swimming over to kiss him again. Then he pulled away, stroking Harry’s face with his hands, still staring at him like he hung the moon. “That was amazing, Haz,” Louis told him again. “You’re amazing.”_ _

__And for once, staring down into Louis’ shining eyes, Harry believed him._ _

____

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I apologize for the very very long delay. I got side-tracked by the Big Bang. There are two more planned chapters for this fic and I’ll try not to take so long to get them written. Thanks for reading!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added warnings for content in this chapter. Since the warnings could be possible spoilers, they've been placed at the beginning of the story instead of here, in case you'd prefer to avoid them.

Louis looked at the text from Paul and his hands started to sweat.

_Emergency meeting 9:30am suite 1376_

His breath felt short and his chest tightened with anxiety. Had they been seen? He looked over at Harry who was still asleep next to him, his hair a riot of curls splayed on the pillow, wild and unruly after they’d collapsed into bed, still damp from the pool. A fierce protectiveness swept over him. Harry looked so vulnerable, lips slightly parted, dark eyelashes fanning his cheeks. He’d grown so broad and so tall, sometimes it was easy to forget how young he still was. For once, none of the worry and stress was on his face; he looked peaceful, relaxed. Louis didn’t want to wake him.

_Harry’s still asleep. Really needs it. Can we push mtg later?_

If they’d been found out, another hour or two wasn’t going to make much difference and they’d be better able to make decisions if they were well rested.

_Important. 10am?_

_Whats this about? Noon?_

_Have to discuss in person. 11._

_Can give me some idea? 11:30_

_Can’t. In person. 11 is best I can do._

_Alright. 11. See u then. Thanks._

He set an alarm and then turned off his phone, not wanting anything to interrupt the extra time they’d been given. He was tempted to call Paul back and leave Harry asleep for a few to run over and get a heads up about the meeting, but really, what good would it do? They’d deal with whatever it was. What choice did they have, after all? And if they really had been seen, he imagined their team would go into overdrive to explain it away. They’d probably not get a minute’s rest for weeks. He’d rather spend this time with Harry, even if he was fast asleep. Louis wanted to extend their magical night as long as possible, keep them cocooned in a bubble where only the two of them existed. 

Eyes roving over Harry, Louis resisted the urge to touch him, run his fingertip across Harry’s lips, rosy pink and still swollen from their kisses. His eyes travelled down the long lines of his body, feet tangled in the sheets, the curve of his hip, his strong shoulders and chest, even more muscular now that they’d been supporting the weight of his wings. And those wings… god. Louis couldn’t look at them without a touch of awe. They no longer seemed foreign and strange; now they were such a part of Harry, he almost couldn’t remember what he looked like without them. Regardless, they still filled him with wonder—the way they shivered when he touched them, the way Harry’s eyes grew dark with passion when Louis ran his hand along the feathers, the way they’d carried them high into the sky to make love against a backdrop of stars. 

In all fairness, being with Harry had always made him feel this way. From the very beginning, Harry had always seemed like some magical creature, sweeping rational thought from Louis’ mind, spinning a spell with his dimpled smile and curly-haired charm. Why wouldn’t he grow wings? Why wouldn’t Harry be the most miraculous person on the planet? That’s who he’d always been to Louis.

Growing sleepy, Louis lay back down next to Harry. There’d be plenty of time to worry about the meeting and what it might bring later. For now, he was going to snuggle next to his boy, rest in his arms and forget about the world outside their door. 

He woke to Harry nuzzling against his face, pressing soft kisses against his jaw, hair tickling his cheek. Louis smiled and stretched, humming his contentment and turning his head to catch Harry’s lips in a kiss.

“Hey,” he said, voice rough from sleep.

“Morning. Alarm went off. You slept right through.”

“Time is it?” He rubbed at his eyes.

“10:30.”

Louis groaned. “We need to get up. Paul texted earlier. Emergency meeting.”

Harry stilled and Louis could feel him tense against his body.

“What about?”

“Don’t know. Said he wanted to discuss in person.”

“You think anyone saw us?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Wanted to meet earlier, but I told him you needed the sleep.”

“Shit.” Harry disentangled himself from Louis and sat up, swinging his knees over the edge of the bed and leaning over with his elbows on his knees, hands rubbing his face. “Shit,” he said again.

“Hey,” Louis said, moving to sit next to him. He pulled one of Harry’s hands away from his face and laced their fingers together. “We don’t have any idea what it’s about yet.”

“Yeah, but what else could it be?”

“Dunno. Let’s just wait and see. Supposed to meet him at 11:00.”

“Fuck.”

Louis wanted to ease Harry’s growing worry, but in his heart he thought their discovery was the most likely reason for the meeting. “Hey,” he said, tugging on Harry’s hand, getting him to look at Louis. “Even if someone did see, we’ll deal with it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll find a way. I’m sure we’ll come up with something. We’ve done it before.”

Harry looked sceptical.

“We will,” Louis repeated. “You’re not alone in this.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

“What?”

Louis received a shrug of the shoulders for an answer.

“C’mon, Haz. What?”

“Just that things were going so well. Knew it was too good to last.”

“Things are going great.”

“Getting harder, though. Don’t know how much longer we can pull it off.”

“Nothing we haven’t been able to handle. Think we can make it through the tour.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Even if someone saw us, we’ll figure something out. I feel like we can definitely make it all the way to Madison Square Garden.” They’d been lucky enough to secure a date for the end of the tour. It would be their final show. Tickets had sold out in minutes.

“Really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And what then? After we work on the new album? If we tour again, there’s no way we could use the same gimmick a second time.”

“Dunno. Maybe you can be one of those eccentric musician types and they’re just your thing now.”

“Don’t think the eccentric musician type’s going to quite fit into our boy band image.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to reevaluate, won’t we?”

Harry looked glum. “I don’t see how this is going to work long term.”

“Hey,” Louis said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s not worry about any of that right now, all right? We need to get dressed and over to meet Paul. See what the emergency is. We’ve got time to figure something out for the future.”

Harry nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“We do. And we’re all in this together. I don’t need the other lads here to tell you that. We’ve all talked about it. Whatever happens, we’re sticking together. We’re not going to be leaving you behind.”

“Maybe you should.”

Louis let out an offended snort of disbelief, shaking his head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I’m still feeling pretty great from last night and something like that would royally piss me off.”

He was relieved to see Harry fighting back a smile at his words. Louis gave Harry’s hand another squeeze. “And while we’re on the subject…” he added.

Harry looked at him questioningly. 

“Last night was…” He tried to find the words. “It was amazing,” he finally settled on. “Absolutely amazing. You’re amazing.”

The worry eased from Harry’s face as he turned to look at Louis, a soft smile on his lips. “It was pretty fantastic,” he agreed.

“Don’t know if I’ll ever experience anything in my entire life that could possibly top that.” Louis didn’t think he was exaggerating.

Harry’s smile grew bigger. “I know what you mean.”

They sat side by side, grinning dopily at each other. “Your landings kind of sucked, though, not gonna lie.”

A bark of laughter escaped from Harry’s mouth, loud and unrestrained. Louis couldn’t hold back a cheeky smirk and he started laughing too, pleased that he had shaken Harry out of his mood. Harry pulled Louis close to him, hugging him tightly. Louis felt Harry’s lips on his hair, kissing the top of his head.

“I’ll work on that,” Harry said.

“Yeah, you do that,” said Louis.

-o-

Paul’s face was grave when they entered the suite. Louis, who’d grown more and more concerned about Harry’s rising anxiousness the closer the meeting got, dived right in. “This about last night?” he asked. Harry’s hand was gripped tightly in his and Harry gave a little squeeze, as if thanking him for broaching the topic immediately.

“What?” Paul asked, face registering confusion. “What happened last night?”

“Nevermind,” Louis quickly answered. “Nothing important.”

Paul frowned, clearly not believing him, but he didn’t push the issue.

“What this all about then?” Louis asked. “Very 007 with the ‘got to do this in person’ bit.”

“I’d like to wait until everyone gets here,” Paul said without cracking a smile.

Harry’s hand gripped more tightly and Louis glanced over to check on him. He looked a little sick to his stomach.

“Think we can get some tea and something to eat? Haven’t had anything yet.”

“Yeah,” Paul said, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchenette. “Already had something sent up. Help yourselves.”

Louis led Harry over to the sofa. “You sit down, love. I’ll go get something for you.”

Harry didn’t argue. He dropped down onto the seat as if his knees couldn’t hold him. Louis gave him a sympathetic look and a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before walking over to make them both a cup of tea. He was a little freaked out too. There was something about the way Paul was acting—Louis couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sensed it, nonetheless—that indicated the situation was something far more serious than they’d been expecting.

Bringing Harry his tea, and a plate with a banana and a few croissants, Louis went back to get his own tea before joining Harry on the sofa and grabbing one of the pastries. Seconds later, they heard voices outside the door and the rest of the lads showed up. Their jovial banter stopped as soon as they entered and saw how serious the mood was.

“What’s going on?” Niall asked.

“You lads need a cuppa or a bite first?” Paul asked.

“We’re good, aren’t we? Just had breakfast downstairs. Fantastic buffet!”

“All right. Well, have a seat. Got something important we need to go over.”

Louis couldn’t wait for everyone to get settled. “Jesus, you’re making me nervous, Paul. Just tell us what’s going on.” 

Paul brought up a hand to rub at his temple. “All right. Not really a good way to tell you something like this, so I’m just going to lay it out.”

The boys, now all seated, waited expectantly.

“We had the cable that snapped in Chicago sent out for analysis.”

“You did? What for?” Zayn asked. 

“Insurance. Legal. That’s not really the point.”

“What is the point?” Louis asked, a feeling of dread starting to grow in his stomach.

“The point is,” Paul said, pausing. He rubbed his temple again. “The point is,” he repeated, “that it didn’t snap by accident. The cable was intentionally compromised.”

The boys were quiet, taking in the statement.

“What does that even mean?” Liam asked.

Harry spoke up, voice soft, but his words weighed heavily. “It means someone was trying to kill me.”

Everyone started talking at once, throwing questions, expressing disbelief. Paul was talking over them, but Louis couldn’t comprehend a word they were saying; he was stunned, looking at Harry, stomach churning, ice running through his veins. This time Harry reached over and took his hand, anchoring him, calming him down.

“Are you sure?” Louis was finally able to choke out. “Could they have made a mistake?”

Paul shook his head. “No, they’re certain. It was deliberately cut almost all the way through. Just needed a little stress on it to complete the break.”

Harry spoke up. “It’s because of the wings.”

“Then maybe someone was trying to expose you, not… not kill you. Jesus.” Louis latched onto any other explanation.

Paul shook his head again. “We don’t want to jump to any conclusions. We have no idea who or why or even if Harry was specifically the target. Could be you’re all in danger or maybe someone was trying to sabotage the show. Could be something not even related to One Direction. Hard to tell at this point. Lots of crazies out there. I’m sure you all heard about that bizarre kidnapping/murder plot with your lad Justin Bieber.”

“Right,” Zayn spoke up. “He was pretty shook up about it.”

“Yes, so we’ve got the police involved.”

Louis’ head snapped up. “You’re not telling them about Harry, are you?”

Paul hurried to reassure him. “Absolutely not.” He paused. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you lads, but the people who know now are the only people who are going to know. Too risky to let it get further, especially while we don’t really know what we’re dealing with. Got people going through all the fan mail, see if there’s anything crazy there.”

“Oh, there’s definitely plenty of crazy there,” Niall joked, breaking a little of the tension.

Paul finally smiled. “Above and beyond the usual, then. All the crew are being questioned, the staff at the arena, anyone who’s got a problem with Syco and Modest—”

“Rebecca,” Zayn said under his breath.

Niall giggled and elbowed Zayn in the side.

Paul shot them a warning look. “Everyone is treating this with the utmost seriousness. We need you boys to do the same. No pranking for the time being. No running off and disappearing.”

He got a few nods of acknowledgment.

“No going anywhere without security,” Paul continued. “No going anywhere alone. I’m serious. You need to be in constant contact with the security team. We don’t want to cramp your style or put too many restrictions on you, but until we’ve got a better idea what’s going on, better safe than sorry.”

“Got it,” Liam said, speaking for them all. “We’ll behave. Won’t we lads?”

The rest of them agreed, although Harry sat silently, an undecipherable expression on his face.

“All right. I’m going to leave you lads now. We’ve got security on the floor. Sound check’s in a few hours. Stay out of trouble until then.”

“Will do.” Liam spoke again.

Paul nodded, then headed for the door, hesitating before opening it. “I don’t want you to make yourselves sick worrying.” He was staring at Louis. “Leave that to us. That’s our job. We needed you to know so you understand why we might have to curtail some of your activities, and so you can give us a heads up if you encounter anything out of the ordinary, but don’t let that take the fun out of things for you. You lads enjoy yourselves, and leave the worrying to us, okay?”

Louis didn’t see how they could possibly not worry, but he nodded anyway.

“Okay. Good. See you in a bit,” Paul said as he left the suite.

“That was unexpected,” Zayn said into the silence.

“Moving up in the world if one of us is involved in an actual murder plot. I’d say we’ve finally made it lads!” Niall, as always, was able to lighten the mood.

Zayn snorted.

“Yay.” Louis gave a half-hearted, sarcastic cheer.

“Harry, how you holding up over there?” Niall asked.

“Not sure it’s quite sunk in yet.”

“Like the man said, might not have anything to do with you specifically.”

“C’mon,” Harry said, with a frustrated huff. “Do you really think this doesn’t have to do with my wings? I know I’m the youngest and you all tend to baby me, but I’m not stupid, you know.”

“’Course you’re not,” Liam jumped in. “Don’t think Niall was trying to imply that you were.”

“Absolutely not,” Niall agreed, standing up and walking over to Harry. “Budge over,” he said, scooting in beside him on the sofa. Harry shifted to make a little room and Niall hugged him sideways, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe it is about you and them gorgeous wings of yours, but maybe it’s not. Let’s not assume anything at this point.”

“Because you know what they say; when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me,” Zayn chimed back in.

“Really, Zayn?” Louis asked, with a curl of his lip. “I can see something that lame coming from Harry, but you’re usually—”

“Heyyyy,” Harry interrupted with a pouty frown.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think, Tomlinson,” Zayn countered, continuing the play argument with Louis, both knowing it was always a good way to distract Harry when he got upset. Except this time, his words were far more effective than he realized. Harry let out one of his undignified snorts and then he and Louis started giggling uncontrollably.

Zayn grimaced. “Ew. I don’t even want to know.”

“You really don’t,” Louis agreed, still laughing.

A crease appeared on Liam’s forehead as he tried to piece together what everyone was reacting to. His face changed expressions several times as it sunk in and he let out a little shocked, “Oh.”

“That’s sick,” said Niall, with an approving nod of his head.

-o-

When Harry and Louis were back in their room, Louis immediately lay down on the bed, pulling Harry on top of him. They made out leisurely for a few moments, soft hums of contentment coming from them both.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Louis asked against his lips.

Harry leaned back to look into Louis’ eyes, a fond smile on his face.

“I always want you to suck my cock, but you don’t have to. I appreciate you trying to distract me, but I promise I’m not freaking out.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Because I don’t want you to freak out.”

Louis laughed. “Well this is a fine mess we’ve got ourselves into. What’s the world coming to when neither of us is able to have a proper meltdown over a homicidal maniac on the loose?”

“Hey, I thought you said it was someone trying to expose me.”

“I know someone who wants to expose you,” Louis said, reaching for Harry’s waistband.

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked, pulling Louis’ hands away and moving them above his head, pinning them to the mattress by the wrists. “We better apprehend the criminal.” He ground down with his hips, and Louis could feel his dick against his own, both of them half hard. 

“Christ, you sound like a bad porno.”

“Bow chicka wow wow,” Harry sang, grinding his hips again in a circular motion.

“I changed my mind. I’m starting to feel a freak out coming on. I think I may need you to give me a blowjob to distract me,” Louis said with a breathless laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, leaning down to nuzzle against Louis’ neck, hips still moving. “I can do that. Don’t have a lot of time before sound check, and I still want to call my mum, fill her in, but yeah.”

Louis groaned as he bucked up his hips against Harry. “Please stop talking about your mum.”

Harry laughed as he started to slide down Louis’ body. “Sorry.”

“Think I’ve figured out the problem with your landings,” Louis said.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Terrible timing.”

Harry chuckled as he pulled at Louis’ jogging bottoms, sliding them down his thighs. “I’ve got fantastic timing,” Harry said before taking Louis’ cock into his mouth, humming the tune to _Rock Me_ as he bobbed his up and down his length.

“You’re the absolute worst,” Louis said with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan before losing himself in the sensation, pushing any thought about the possible threat out of his mind.

Afterwards, once they’d both got off, they lay together kissing softly, enjoying their last minutes of privacy before having to leave to get ready for the concert.

“You really doing okay?” Louis asked, tucking a curl behind Harry’s ear and softly running his knuckles against Harry’s cheek.

Harry gave a little shrug. “Doesn’t seem real, actually. I mean, I’m just me, and yeah, maybe it’s scary, something so different. It was scary for me too at first. But to think someone hates me enough to want to kill me—” he broke off, troubled.

“We really don’t know that, though.”

“I know. But I think we do know that, deep down, don’t we?”

This time it was Louis’ turn to shrug.

“Are you scared?” Louis asked, after a minute, absently trailing his fingers lightly over Harry’s shoulders, down his arm, watching the skin break out in goose bumps.

“Yeah, course I am.”

“Yeah, me too.” Louis ran his fingers back up Harry’s arm, across his shoulder then behind to his wing, loving the way Harry’s breath caught and his eyelids fluttered at the touch.

“What I’m really upset about…” He took a deep shuddering breath as Louis continued his caress across the top of his wing.

“Yeah?” Louis prompted.

“There’s going to be so much security now.”

Louis nodded in agreement.

“Think our chances to sneak away like we did last night are pretty much over.”

“Oh,” Louis said with a frown, not having thought about that.

“Yeah. And that was the first time I’d really got to try them out, and then with you, it was…” Louis’s hand stilled as Harry got emotional and couldn’t continue speaking for a moment.

“It was amazing,” Louis whispered, finishing Harry’s sentence.

Harry nodded, slipping up a hand to dab at the corner of his eye with his finger. When he regained control he continued. “So what if that’s the last time I ever get a chance to fly?”

Louis leaned in and pressed a tender kiss against Harry’s lips. “If you want,” he said, “we can cancel the rest of the tour. Go home and find a nice country house, far away from anyone, and go flying every day.”

Harry smiled. “Don’t think we need to cancel the tour.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared, but, this is what we’ve always wanted. I love it. I love being out there on stage.”

“Me too,” Louis agreed.

“I’m going to try and do like Paul asked, and let them do the worrying. You too, okay? I don’t want you to get all stressed out worrying about me. I mean, even more than you already are. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He could try. “But know that at any point, if you want out, you say the word. We’ll all back you.”

“I know. After the tour’s over, I think that country house sounds good.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, leaning in to speak against his lips, “that does sound good. You and me, away from the world.”

-o-

Their worries seemed groundless through their next few cities. Shows in Salt Lake City and Denver went off without a hitch. Paul let them know there had been no security concerns beyond the usual. After a series of concerts through Texas went the same, everyone started to relax. It wasn’t until Kansas City that they got hints of trouble ahead.

Paul hustled them past the crowds of screaming fans as they made their way from the bus to the arena. Normally, they might stop and sign a few autographs, pose for some pictures, but today, Paul kept them moving, tossing apologies to the fans over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis caught sight of a sign in the crowd. It wasn’t one of the usual bright Sharpie coloured ones with declarations of love for the boys; instead, it was plain, with black text written across a white background. He paused, trying to read what it said.

“Hurry it up lads,” Paul said, herding him towards the arena. Louis resisted, still trying to make out the words.

Paul grabbed hold of his upper arm and pulled him along. “Not now, Lou,” he said.

“I want to see that sign,” he explained.

“No, you don’t,” Paul replied, trying to get him to move.

His response made Louis even more determined. He shook off Paul’s grip, standing on tiptoes to get a better view. A chill ran through him when the words came into focus.

_Matthew 25:4: Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels_.

Immediately, he looked for Harry, not wanting him to catch sight of it. Relief filled him as he saw the tips of his wings disappearing into the building.

“Lou, come on,” Paul insisted, grabbing his arm again. This time Louis obediently followed, letting himself be ushered inside.

During the sound check, Louis was distracted, thinking about the sign he’d seen outside. The words were disturbing on a level beyond the fangirl obsession with Harry’s wings. He’d read plenty of those sorts of theories punctuated with comments like “actual angel.” The man outside—and right off, that was different—had been unsmiling, towering above the crowd of girls.

Paul pulled Louis aside once they were done on stage. “I’ve told you lads before, but leave the worrying to us. Your head wasn’t in it up there.”

“That sign—”

“’S not the first. Won’t be the last.”

“What?”

“Lou, it’s nothing for you lads to worry about.”

“How can you say that?”

“Let the police do their job. Let me do my job. You worry about yours, which is to put on a great show tonight.”

“If it were something for us to worry about, you’d tell us, right?”

Paul didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Of course. Not going to take any unnecessary risks with you boys. Now put it aside and enjoy yourselves. All right?”

“Yeah, all right,” Louis said, quite aware he was lying.

Back on the bus as they made their way to the next city, Louis lay in his bunk, laptop propped up on his legs as did a few Google searches on Harry’s wings. He’d got out of the habit of checking fan reactions after the initial frenzy and again after Chicago. In the interim, the tone had taken on a decidedly different edge. Various message boards were peppered with disturbing posts.

_You are blind to the evil that now walks the earth. When Satan rebelled, he took up to a third of the Angels with him as they were given free will by God, and it is these we call Demons. From the first, with the tempting of Adam and Eve in the garden, Satan's goal has been to turn people from God. He is still at work today. What you call an Angel is an agent of Satan, leading our children away from God and toward sin._

_The work of Satan is subtle and insidious. He seeks to hinder you from forming an intimate relationship with Our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, distracting you with frivolous entertainment, idle amusement, occupying your minds with television, movies, concerts, songs full of lascivious meaning, keeping you busy so you have little time for God. Now he is so bold as to send his demon to stand before you in the guise of the entertainer, turning your head from the power of Christ._

Some were far more direct.

_Harry Styles is one of Satan’s minions and should be cast back into the fires of hell._

Louis had certainly read similar sentiments numerous times on Tumblr and Twitter before, though those had clearly been said with tongue-in-cheek fangirl fervour. Where this differed, however, were the links in the signature, leading back to various religious sites including one run by a group notorious for its intolerance and hardcore Fundamentalism. 

Overtaken by that same morbid curiosity that caused him to scour the web for negative comments about himself, Louis scrolled through the site, reading page after page of its hatefulness—denouncing homosexuality as the work of Satan, claiming the acceptance of sodomy dooms nations. God’s will… retribution and eternal damnation… abomination… the words swum before his eyes. And on the left hand column, a counter that increased in number the longer he was on the site, proclaiming how many had been cast into hell since he’d loaded the page.

Louis slammed the lid of his laptop shut and rubbed his eyes. It’s not as if he wasn’t aware that these kinds of people existed in the world; his and Harry’s relationship was hidden for reasons other than teenage fantasies. In fact, he’d never made a single tweet that didn’t get numerous slurs in reply, mixed amongst the follow requests, declarations of love, and sexual come-ons. He was used to being called some pretty horrible names. Knowing these kinds of people were homing in on Harry made him sick to his stomach.

What could they do, however? Neither of them wanted to quit the tour. Paul kept telling him not to worry, but how could he not? Not when someone had already made an attempt against Harry and who knew how many others wished him harm.

A text alert from Harry sounded from his phone. Louis dug into his pocket and pulled it out. 

_Go to sleep._

Immediately, Louis’ body relaxed the tiniest bit. A small smile slowly crept over his face. He was so busy worrying about Harry, he sometimes forgot how much Harry worried about him. Tapping out a message, Louis pressed send.

_Ok, ok. Love you._

The reply was almost instant.

_Love you too._

-o-

As they’d travelled through the southern U.S. leg of the tour, the mood grew more sombre with each successive city. Signs like the one Louis had spotted in Kansas City increased in number. Soon, the entrances to the arenas were lined with almost as many protesters as fans. Harry kept his head down as they entered the building, flanked by security. Progressively rattled by each new encounter, Harry would cling to Louis once inside while Louis did his best to soothe, distracting him with his mouth and hands, though thoroughly rattled himself.

Major news outlets picked up on the story. Louis was interviewed by one popular radio station that asked why Harry didn’t give an interview without the wings and put the rumours to rest once and for all.

“It’s become a bit of thing, hasn’t it?” Louis responded with a small laugh, doing his best to deflect. “But these kinds of folks are looking for attention, aren’t they? If Harry gave any notice to their insane conspiracy theories, it’d just be giving them what they want, yeah? Best to ignore these types of people. There’s no satisfying them.”

The concerts themselves, on the other hand, continued to go off without a hitch. Just a few more shows and they’d all be back in England, taking some much needed time off while they contemplated the future. Louis couldn’t wait. The strain was getting to everyone.

Finally, they tour was nearing an end. Only one date remained, and it was one of the biggest performances of their lives: Madison Square Garden. Even the crowd of protesters outside couldn’t dampen their spirits. Now familiar cries of, “The Lord Jesus Christ rebukes you,” and, “Submit yourselves to God and be cleansed of this evil,” followed them as they were hurried past the crowd. This time, however, they were largely ignored, even by Harry who was grinning with suppressed excitement.

“Can’t believe we’ve really done it,” he said as they gathered before the performance.

“I know. It was touch and go a few times, but we pulled it off,” Liam said with a big smile.

Niall joined in. “There’s no stopping us!” 

“I just want to say thank you,” Harry said, expression earnest. “I know you could easily have gone on without me, and I…” He started to get choked up.

“Hey, none of that, love,” Louis said, sliding his hand around Harry’s side and rubbing the middle of his back underneath the drape of his wings. “We told you we were going to stick together.”

“Remember when I had to leave for a funeral and none of you would call yourselves One Direction without me there?” Zayn asked. “You said it was because you weren’t One Direction without the five of us. ‘S no different.”

“Right,” Liam said. “And we’ve talked about it. We’re not sure how, but we’re going to come up with something for the next album. We’ve tossed around some ideas. Not sure exactly what we’ll do, but we’ll figure something out. We did it before and we can do it again. The five of us are a team, no matter what.”

The rest of them nodded in agreement.

Louis squeezed Harry’s side, giving him a quizzical look, as if asking, “What did I tell you?”

Harry pressed his lips together and gave a nod, accepting their claim, even as he still looked emotional.

“C’mon lads,” Zayn said with a slight roll of his eyes. “Think it’s time for a little group cuddle.” He opened his arms and they all dove in, hugging each other closely, arms reaching round as far as they could go. Louis felt his own throat tighten as he blinked back tears. He couldn’t ask for better friends.

“Madison Square Garden. Can you fucking believe it? Whoo!” 

They broke apart laughing, Niall’s excitement bringing them out of the sentimental moment.

“Let’s give them a show!”

Louis’ blood thrummed with adrenaline as they rose from the stage. No matter how many times they’d performed the same routine, the thrill never got old. And here they were, on one of the most famous stages of the world, a sold out venue. He peered out at the crowd through the fog, the frenzied screams augmenting the pulsing beat of the music. When the intro completed, he raised the microphone to his mouth, head tilting back, one hand flat across his stomach, and belted out the lyrics. 

As the verse neared the end, signalling Harry’s cue to fly down the zip wire, a sharp crack rang through the air. Louis’ heart skipped a beat and he whipped around, expecting to see another severed cable and Harry’s wings spread with him gliding toward the stage. The sight that met his eyes bore no resemblance to the scene in Chicago; instead, Harry hung limply from the harness, wings folded down his back, head dropping toward his chest where a dark stain was spreading rapidly across the fabric of his shirt. Louis stared in disbelief, his bones turning to lead as paralysis overtook him.

Pandemonium broke out. The scream of the fans turned hysterical. From the corner of his eye, Louis saw security wrestling with a man who was waving a gun and struggling to reach the stage, shouting wildly about demons and divine retribution. And then Harry was landing practically at his feet, a dark red streak smearing across the stage as he slid to a halt, a crumpled mess of blood and feathers.

Louis forced his body back into motion, falling to his knees at Harry’s side. Afraid to move him, but desperate to know he was still alive, Louis gently touched Harry’s shoulder. Harry moaned and rolled partially onto his back. Though petrified by the stain still spreading, Louis thought he’d never heard a more welcome sound in his life. Acting on instinct, he pressed his fingers against the tattered tear in Harry’s shirt, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“Think I’ve been shot,” Harry whispered, voice weak.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t try and talk, love,” Louis urged. Over his shoulder he yelled, “Get the fucking doctor!”

He was aware of the other boys around him now too, one of them unfastening the harness from Harry’s groin. Activity was everywhere, but Louis’ eye remained trained on Harry’s face.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said soothingly, although he was terrified it wasn’t the truth. There was _so much_ blood and Harry’s face and lips were pale.

“They’re all going to find out.” Louis had to strain to hear Harry’s voice.

“Shh, Haz. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that you’re all right. That’s the only thing that matters, all right? I love you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Harry’s eyelids fluttered shut, as if they were too weak to stay open and panic took root in Louis’ gut. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes against the wave of fear threatening to pull him under. “Where the fuck is the doctor?”

Then footsteps were pounding across the stage. Louis’s hands were being gently removed as they were replaced by gloved ones. Someone was pulling him away from Harry, lifting him to his feet, holding him tightly, giving him the support to stand on knees that could barely hold him. He watched helplessly as they worked over Harry’s still form.

“What about his costume?” Louis heard one of the medical team ask.

“Can’t worry about that now. Need to get him stabilized first. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

There was a buzzing in his ears and grey spots appeared in front of his eyes as he watched their efforts grow more urgent, the comments of the medics becoming clipped and sharp.

“We’re losing him,” one of the men bent over Harry’s body said.

Louis tried to pull away from whoever was holding him, but the grip grew tighter. 

“Let me go,” he demanded.

“Lou, let them do their job.” His brain registered Liam. Was he crying?

“Fuck you. Let me go. He’s dying.” He struggled to break free.

“Niall, help me here.”

“Let go of me,” Louis yelled, frantic as he watched the medical team wheel in a stretcher. “Harry!” Louis called, pulling against his captors all the while. “You can’t leave me. I love you. Please.” He was sobbing. “Please don’t die. I love you.”

Harry was lifted onto the stretcher and wheeled away.

Louis tried to break free to follow but was held tight. “Harry,” he screamed as the stretcher vanished from sight. “You can’t die. I love you, Harry. I love you.”

The buzzing in his ears intensified and the spots merged together. “I love you,” he called out one last time as he faded into unconsciousness.

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a cliffie! I've already started on the final chapter and hope to have it up soon. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Louis awoke to three anxious and frightened faces staring down at him. After a moment of confusion, he bolted upright, remembering what had occurred. “Harry. Fuck.” Liam grabbed him as he started to sway.

“Here, sit back down for a few. You fainted.”

Louis jerked his arm away. “Where’s Harry? I need to get to Harry.” He had obviously been moved while he was unconscious. They were backstage, away from the crowd, although he could still hear the hysterical voices of the audience and someone relaying instructions over the sound system. A police officer was standing nearby, stationed as a guard. 

“He’s en route to hospital. We don’t know anything more. Paul rode with them in the ambulance to explain… you know.”

“We need to go too.”

Zayn’s phone buzzed and he held up a finger while he checked it.

Nodding his head, he looked up and said, “Car’s ready for us at the side.”

“What about their mums?” Niall asked.

God, Louis hadn’t even thought about them being in the audience. They had flown over for their final performance, so excited about being able to attend and share their successful night. His vision started going grey again and he shut his eyes, trying to regain his equilibrium. Liam grabbed hold of him and forced him into a seat, pushing his head down between his legs. This time Louis didn’t protest.

“Lou’s mum is with Anne. They’re already on their way. Going to meet us there.”

Liam knelt down next to Louis. “You think you can walk?”

Louis nodded his head while keeping it down between his knees. “Yeah. Just give me a sec.”

“Sure. You take your time.” Louis had never appreciated Liam’s steady presence more.

Not allowing himself to think about what might be happening in the ambulance, Louis took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t going to be any help to anyone like this; he needed to be strong. Taking one last deep breath, he sat up. “I’m ready.”

Zayn nodded to the officer who began leading them to the exit. The area by the car was blocked off by a barrier which had been set up to protect it from any interference. Louis could see the paps in the distance trying to snap pictures as they were ushered into the vehicle. A wave of repulsion ran through him, disgust that someone would try to profit from this horror.

He allowed Liam to buckle him in and then he stared out the window, eyes unfocused, the lights of the city blurring by. Liam, Niall and Zayn were talking in low voices, but Louis was lost in his own head, trying desperately not to think of the worst case scenario. Although he wouldn’t let himself even consider that possibility, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what might happen now that Harry’s secret was out. Well, all their secrets, he supposed. They were never going to be able to explain away his impassioned declarations of love after they’d been heard by thousands.

News crews were already convening outside the hospital as they arrived. Louis’ skin crawled at the intrusion. They were used to every aspect of their lives being on display, but some things—his terror, his anguish—should be allowed to be private. As they exited the vehicle, their police escort quickly surrounded them as they were led inside. Paul was there to greet them, obviously having been alerted they were arriving. He wasted no time assuring them Harry was still with them.

“He’s in surgery. Won’t know more for a few hours yet.”

The relief that went through Louis was so strong it almost knocked him off his feet. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders lending him much needed support. He looked over and gave Niall a grateful smile.

“He’s going to be all right,” Niall assured him. “I just know it.”

Louis clung to Niall’s positivity.

Liam asked the question that was at the back of everyone’s minds. “What about…?” He raised his eyebrow and gave a small nod of his head over his shoulder, not wanting to say the rest of the question out loud with so many strangers around.

“C’mon,” said Paul. “They’ve got a waiting room set aside for all of us. We can talk there.”

“Hold up a minute,” Zayn said. They all turned to look at him. “Is there somewhere we can get Louis cleaned up first?”

Louis looked down at himself. He hadn’t even noticed his hands were still covered with dried blood. Harry’s blood. It was all over his clothes too. He spread his fingers and raised his hands toward his face, staring at them. A wave of nausea hit him and he thought he might be sick.

Zayn gently wrapped his fingers around Louis’ wrists and moved his hands back down. “You don’t need your mum, or Harry’s mum, seeing you like this,” he said, voice soft and laced with kindness. “Let’s find somewhere for you to get washed up, yeah?”

Louis nodded his agreement.

After a few moments, Paul had secured a spare set of scrubs and they were led to an unoccupied hospital room.

With Zayn’s help, Louis stripped out of his bloodstained clothing and got cleaned up. He stared as the water in the sink slowly turned from pink to clear. Irrationally, he was beset by a feeling of loss, as if his only connection to Harry was being stripped away.

Zayn helped him re-dress in the clean clothes, then gathered up the outfit Louis had arrived in before they left the bathroom and joined the others.

“What should I do with these?” Zayn asked, indicated the soiled clothing. “Toss them?”

“Give them here,” Paul said, shaking his head no. “We’ll deal with those later.”

That same repulsion Louis had felt earlier when he caught sight of the paps came over him again. He knew why Paul wanted to take the clothing with them. Otherwise, they’d probably find them for sale on eBay: Exclusive one of a kind! The outfit Louis Tomlinson was wearing when he saw his lover, Harry Styles, gunned down before his eyes! Authentic bloodstains!

He shook his head, as if he’d be able to shake the thoughts from his mind.

While they had been in the bathroom, Liam had somehow procured a small container of orange juice.

“Here,” he said, pressing it into Louis’ hand. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

Nothing would make Louis feel better until he knew Harry was going to be all right, but he obediently did as Liam instructed, drinking the juice down.

“Before we join the others, let me fill you in,” Paul said. “Here’s as good a place as any.”

“How did they react to the wings?” Liam asked the question again.

Paul shook his head, as if in disbelief. “It’s the strangest thing,” he began. “The wings are gone.”

“What?” Louis’ head whipped up. That was an attention grabbing statement.

“We were in the ambulance,” Paul continued, “and they were working on Harry and the wings were in the way, so they started fussing with them, trying to figure out how they were attached. Trying to remove them, you know?”

They nodded.

“And I was just about to jump in, telling them they were wasting their time, when they pulled completely away from his body.”

Louis blanched and sat down on one of the hospital beds, putting his head between his knees again. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No, Louis,” Paul rushed to reassure him. “It wasn’t like that. I promise. It didn’t seem to hurt Harry at all. There wasn’t any bleeding or anything like that from where they’d been attached, just some light pink marks on the skin, like what’s left after you pull away some adhesive.”

Liam spoke up. “That’s not possible.”

“I think we’ve said that more than once with them things, haven’t we?” Niall chimed in.

“Then they were sort of tossed aside onto the floor of the ambulance and feathers were going everywhere, falling out. When we got to hospital and they opened the doors to wheel Harry out, a big gust of wind picked up and swirled around inside the ambulance blowing all the feathers away.”

“What about the… the skeleton part or whatever?” Zayn asked.

“I’m getting to that,” Paul answered. “We got Harry inside and I filled out some paperwork while they moved him right into surgery. Then his mum showed up. But first chance I could, I told them I left something out in the ambulance and went back to take a look.”

“Were you able to get the rest of it before anyone found it?” Liam asked.

Paul shook his head no. “As I said… strangest thing. When I got to the ambulance, the skeletal frame had sort of… I don’t know… disintegrated, I guess. Don’t really know how else to describe it. There was a just a little bit of it left resting on top of what looked like… sand, I guess? And then that bit sort of fell apart too, just kind of collapsed. There’s just nothing left of them. Nothing at all.”

Again, Louis was overtaken by the sensation of loss. On the face of it, he should be happy. The secret they’d gone to so much effort to protect was no longer a concern. But Louis had loved Harry’s wings, fiercely and passionately. He loved their beauty and strength, the way they responded to his touch, but most of all, he loved them because they were Harry’s. For them to disappear, as if they’d never existed, was difficult to accept.

“Oh, wait,” Paul added. “I shouldn’t say nothing.” He reached into his shirt pocket under his jacket and pulled out a single black feather. “This was caught on something in the ambulance. Thought you’d like to have it.” Paul held it out to Louis.

“Yeah, thanks,” Louis said, throat closing up as he accepted the feather, overcome by emotion.

“Let’s head over to the waiting room. There are some mums over there I’m sure would feel better seeing you lads are all right.”

Hours later, Louis excused himself from the others and backtracked to the empty hospital room where he had changed. After a tearful reunion with their families, they’d sat tense and on edge waiting for news about Harry’s condition. Louis had held onto the black feather like a lifeline, as if it were a talisman, somehow instrumental in tying Harry to this world. 

The doctor finally arrived to give the prognosis and they all stood and crowded round, anxious to hear the results of the surgery. After getting the go ahead from Harry’s mum, the doctor relayed the news. The details would have to be repeated to Louis later. Snippets registered somewhere in his brain: primarily to the shoulder… nicked the scapula… loss of blood… vascular surgeon… months of rehabilitation. But the phrase Louis latched onto sounded as sweet as the sweetest melody: barring infection or complications, expected to make a full recovery.

When he reached the room, he entered the bathroom, shut the door behind him, then sat on the lid of the toilet, put his head in his hands and wept.

-o-

Louis sat by Harry’s bedside waiting for him to wake up. Lou’s mum had taken Anne back to the hotel a short while ago, now that Harry was out of danger, so she could get some rest and change and make travel arrangements to stay in the States a while longer. Harry had been awake earlier, but Louis had missed the short window, having fallen asleep himself in the waiting room. Still upset they hadn’t alerted him, he tried to concentrate on the positives: Harry was alive and he was going to be all right.

Right now he didn’t look all right, with the machines hooked up, wires and tubes running everywhere, bandages on his shoulder. He was still pale, brows and lashes dark against his skin, even though they’d replaced the blood he’d lost. And he looked smaller, somehow, without his wings. So strange to see Harry lying flat on his back, Louis thought.

His heart rate picked up when he saw Harry shift slightly in the bed, eyelashes fluttering. And then Harry was opening his eyes, his beautiful expressive eyes, so green and clear with none of the confusion or disorientation they said he’d experienced earlier. Louis stared into them and felt as if he might burst from the surge of emotions coursing through him.

Leaning in, Louis reached out his hand to take Harry’s fingers gently in his.

“You really know how to make an entrance,” he said.

Harry let out a little chuckle which immediately transformed into a groan. “Don’t make me laugh,” he said, his voice scratchy and rough from disuse.

Louis nodded, then dipped his head, the overpowering sense of relief at hearing Harry’s voice temporarily robbing him of speech, causing his throat to tighten and his eyes to sting.

Harry, grip weak, still managed to give Louis’ hand a squeeze. “Don’t make me cry either,” he requested.

Louis acknowledged his words with another nod and concentrated on pulling himself together. Eyes still shining with unshed tears, he lifted his head to look at Harry’s beloved face. “Never been so scared in my entire life,” Louis whispered. His efforts to keep a rein on his emotions were in vain; tears spilled over his lids and slid down his cheeks.

“Hey…”

At the gentle tone of Harry’s voice, Louis felt even more overwhelmed. He leaned over and buried his face in the edge of the mattress, letting the hospital sheets soak up his tears. Then Harry’s hand was in his hair, clumsy and uncoordinated.

“Shhh,” Harry said. “I’m gonna be all right. I promise. I’m gonna be fine.”

-o-

**New York Times - Terror at One Direction Concert Madison Square Garden**

A 42-year-old man armed with a semi-automatic pistol shot international pop star Harry Styles of One Direction during their last US concert at Madison Square Garden on Friday. Witnesses and officials described the scene as chaotic as thousands of teenagers witnessed the shocking event.

Mr. Styles was rushed to Lenox Hill Hospital where he underwent surgery. He is currently listed in serious condition.

The incident occurred as Mr. Styles descended on a zip wire to the front of the stage during the band’s opening number. Witnesses report the gunman, identified as Fred Phillips, pulled out a weapon and took aim at Mr. Styles, firing one shot before he was subdued by security and taken into custody.

Terrified screams filled arena for the sold out show while young teens watched their idol dangle helplessly in the air, bleeding from the gunshot wound and seemingly unconscious. Louis Tomlinson, the band’s oldest member, long rumored to be in a relationship with Mr. Styles, was the first to reach Mr. Styles and put pressure on the wound until medical help could arrive. Witnesses describe Mr. Tomlinson as visibly distraught and needing to be physically restrained while Mr. Styles was being treated.

Law enforcement officials said Mr. Phillips is a resident of Lawrence, KS and a member of a controversial religious group which has been protesting the band’s performances. Vocal on the Internet and the group’s web site, one of Mr. Phillip’s bizarre claims is that the wings Mr. Styles wears as a costume on stage are, in fact, real and that he’s one of Lucifer’s (the name often given to Satan in Christian theology) demons. Mr. Phillips is currently undergoing psychological evaluation.

Many parents were shocked to receive calls from their children that a gunman had opened fire at the concert. Calls poured in immediately as law enforcement worked to gain control of the crowd. They were quickly able to determine Mr. Phillips acted alone and worked with venue personnel to calm the panicked crowd full of hysterical youngsters. Several fans fainted and were treated at the arena but no other injuries were reported.

One Direction, the sensation from England and Ireland, is one of the most popular and best-selling musical acts of all time, breaking even some of _The Beatles_ former records. Members Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were at The Garden performing the last show of their tour before returning home to London for a break. Many family members and friends were reported to be in the audience.

-o-

**Tumblr – PRAY FOR HARRY! LARRY IS REAL!**

I never thought this was the kind of concert report I’d be writing. I can’t stop crying. If you haven’t heard, Harry’s been SHOT. I’m not lying. Turn on the news if you don’t believe me. There was a crazy man at MSG and he pulled out a GUN and SHOT HARRY. We were like only 2 sections away and there was a bang and then we heard crazy yelling and everything happened so fast. People were screaming and Harry was just hanging from that wire and it looked like he was dead, omg. I don’t know if I’m making any sence right now. I’m so upset and I haven’t stopped crying all night. These big security guys grabbed the crazy guy’s arm and got the gun away from him, but omg, it was already to late. And Harry was covered with blood and then when he got down to the stage, Louis ran over to him and was crying and he tried to stop the blood and then these medical guys ran over and made Louis get away and then Louis was screaming how much he loved Harry and begging him not to die and omg, he loves Harry SO MUCH and nobody knows how Harry is yet but the news keeps saying hes alive. I’m still crying guys. It was the most awful thing I’ve seen in my entire life. I’ll probably have nightmares about it. Everyone was crying and please please everyone pray for Harry. Harry and Louis love each other soooo much and now the whole world knows, tho they should have already known if they had there eyes open even a little bit. It was so obvious. It’s horrible this the way they had to come out. It should have been on Ellen with some nice pics in People magazine but because of this CRAZY person who SHOT HARRY, god I can’t breath I’m so upset. Can you even imagine Louis trying to live without Harry? It’s to horrible to even think about so everyone please pray for Harry. I’ll try to write more later but I’m to upset right now and my mom wants me to go to bed. Pray for Harry!!!

-o-

For Immediate Release  
Contact: Lisa Wolfe, Modest! Management lisa@modestmanagement.com

**Harry Styles in Stable Condition After Shooting at Madison Square Garden**

Harry Styles has been listed in stable condition at Lenox Hill Hospital, New York after being shot one time in the shoulder by a semi-automatic pistol. He underwent surgery and is expected to make a full recovery with several months of physical therapy.

One Direction (members Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson) were performing the final concert of their US tour to a sold out crowd at Madison Square Garden when a sole gunman, with suspected motives of religious fanaticism, shot Harry as he descended a zip wire.

One Direction is deeply grateful to the city of New York, the police officers on site and the venue security and personnel for their quick action in apprehending the suspect and preventing further injury to the attending fans. The band and everyone at Syco, Sony, Columbia and Modest! Management deeply regrets both the fans’ disappointment and that they were forced to witness to such a violent act.

In addition, One Direction and the family of Harry Styles are grateful to the incredible doctors and nurses at Lenox Hill Hospital for their professional and expert care of Harry as he recovers from his gunshot wound.

Finally, Louis and Harry would like to express their deep and sincere thanks for the overwhelming outpouring of love and support for their relationship, which they’d previously decided to keep hidden for various reasons, including the kind of intolerance exhibited by the group with whom Harry’s attacker was rumored to be associated. They’d both also like to extend a special heartfelt thank you to Eleanor Calder for her unwavering friendship and support in the often difficult role she agreed to play as Louis’ girlfriend. Although this is not the manner in which they’d hoped to come out as a couple, Louis and Harry are very happy to have their loving relationship out in the open.

Harry is expected to be released from the hospital in a few days. He’ll continue his long recovery process at home with Louis in London and with his family in Cheshire. We’ll continue to keep all of One Direction’s fans updated on his progress.

-o-

“Do you miss them?” Louis and Harry were cuddled next to each other on the couch at their friend Cal’s in California. The telly was on low in the background and the other boys were draped around the room in various locations after they’d all spent the day at the beach together. Harry hadn’t been able to surf—doctor’s orders—but he and Zayn had watched the others enjoying the waves, all of them benefitting from some enforced time off during Harry’s recovery. They were paging through various sketches their tattoo artist had sent over. The one in front of them that had spurred Louis’ question was a pair of wings, the curving lines simple yet beautiful, the detail in the feathers exquisite. Harry was contemplating having them tattooed between his shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” Harry said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s a lot less complicated now and you know how I felt about them at first, but I got used to having them, and with you…” he trailed off and looked at Louis and Louis’ breath caught at the heat and devotion in Harry’s expression.

“What do you think happened to them?” Niall asked.

Both Harry and Louis were startled by the question, so wrapped up in the other they almost forgot they weren’t alone in the room.

Harry shrugged again. “Don’t know.”

“If you check tumblr, you’ll see the conspiracy theorists hard at it,” Louis said with a small roll of his eyes. “They’ve said you had them surgically removed when you were in hospital after you got shot.”

“Did they really say that?” Harry asked, a small crease appearing on his forehead.

“That they did,” Louis said with a shake of his head.

“I think it’s because everything’s out in the open now,” Zayn chimed in. “Don’t need them anymore.”

“How do you mean?” Liam asked.

“All that epic love between them two,” Zayn explained, answering Liam’s question with a wave of his hand in Harry and Louis’ direction. “It were just too big to stay hidden. Had to come out somehow.”

“That’s rather romantic,” Liam said with a thoughtful look and an approving shake of his head. “I like it. Almost like a fairy tale.”

“Shhh, quiet. Here it is,” Niall said with a shushing motion, cutting off further conversation as he reached for the remote to turn up the volume on the telly.

Ellen DeGeneres appeared on the screen and they sat quietly through the intro before getting to the news they were all interested in. “Before we get started with today’s show, I’ve got an announcement to make. Friday is going to be a big day. Huge. You’re not going to believe who our guests are. I’m excited. You’ll be excited too. What? Who? Oh, you want me to actually tell you...” She paused and her audience laughed. “Huge. I’m telling you, _huge_. Do you really want to know?” The audience yelled yes. “Well, I’ll tell you then.” She paused once more then yelled, “One Direction are going to be on the show!” The audience erupted in loud cheers. 

After a few moments, she quieted them down, a big smile still on her face. “I’m sure most of you heard about the dramatic incident at their Madison Square Garden concert where Harry was shot and Louis rushed to his side, effectively outing them to the entire world. Friday will be their first interview together as a couple and I’m privileged to be the one they chose to speak with.” She paused again while the audience clapped. “Zayn, Liam and my little brother, Niall, will be here as well and we’ll get the first hand scoop about their plans. So that’s Friday. Mark your calendars; you won’t want to miss it. It’s going to be a big day. You know what else is going to be a big day? Today! Our guest—”

Niall muted the telly and turned back towards the others. “There we have it lads. After Friday, we won’t have to keep our mouths shut no longer.” They’d effectively been on a media lockdown since the shooting, giving no interviews, tweets monitored, all news going out through official releases. The taping for the show had already occurred two days prior and once it aired, they’d be free to talk about Harry and Louis. “Don’t know if the world’s ready for your level of soppiness, though.”

“Heyyyy,” Harry said, reaching behind his back for a cushion and throwing it at Niall’s head.

Niall laughed and ducked.

“Careful of your shoulder, love,” Louis said, concerned.

Niall let out a bark of laughter. “See what I mean?”

“I think they’re sweet,” Liam said.

“I think they’re disgusting,” Zayn said with a sneer. “Do you know how many times I’ve been forced to watch _The Notebook_? Never again. I refuse.”

“What?” Louis asked in pretend outrage. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

“I am. And if you even think about playing it when I’m in the same room, I’m going to ask someone to put a bullet in me.”

“Oh,” Liam said with a raise of his eyebrows. “Gunshot jokes. Are we going there already? Too soon, Harry?”

The five of them continued with their good-natured banter, taking the piss out of each other, laughter filling the room.

-o-

“You ready?” Louis asked as they stood inside the tattoo parlour preparing to go outside. A crowd had gathered once news had got out they’d been spotted in L.A. The street was now lined with fans and paparazzi. A car was waiting for them, but they still needed to make their way through the throng.

Harry had decided to get the wings on his back and Louis couldn’t wait until they healed, already imagining how they’d look as he slid into Harry from behind. He’d got a tattoo himself, one they both decided on together—a single black feather curling around his arm.

Louis took Harry’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze, and Harry gave him a nod in response. “Okay, I’m ready.”

They opened the door to the shop and the flashes from the cameras immediately blinded them. Security tried to keep people back as they made their way to the street. Paps were yelling questions as they walked, trying to get their attention.

“Harry!” one yelled. “How does it feel to hold your boyfriend’s hand in public?”

“Keep moving,” their security urged, attempting to guide them to the car. 

But Harry stopped, looked down at their joined hands, then up at Louis. Louis' heart soared at the look in Harry’s eyes—pride, happiness, love, joy, freedom.

Harry turned toward the paparazzi to answer the question, a radiant smile on his face. “Feels like flying.”

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me while I took forever to update!! And thank you for reading. :)


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